The Isle
by regertz
Summary: Well, what "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica" I'm doing to Gilligan's Isle...
1. Chapter 1

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Prologue…

An apparently deserted stretch of beach, on an apparently deserted island uncharted and lost in the South Pacific…Thousands of miles from civilization…

A relatively small charter boat, clearly having borne the brunt of heavy seas and storms, with several large holes likely torn open by the island's coral reef and rocky shoals…Beached and leaning on one side… "S.S Minnow, Island Charter…" visible on its upper front side.

Aboard, the tempest-tossed crew of two accompanied by five charter passengers, exhausted by the struggle with the heavy seas, sleep the sleep of the unknowingly damned…

All but one…

Still awake, despite near-heroic exertions…Not only awake but alert and watchful…

Though, for his own reasons, choosing to conceal his wakeful state for now…Only with infinite care stealthily rising to survey the beach and the ship for brief periods.

For he is not what he may seem…

Eyeing his unconscious comrades on deck…Three of them passengers…

Mary Wholesomeby, the nearest…In gingham dress, innocent smile on her face as she sleeps, stretched on deck, covered by an extra tarpaulin, her braided hair matted beside her face. A tourist in the Hawaiian Islands who'd never guessed how fateful her impulsive decision to board the Minnow for a three-hour tour of the more distant and less known islands would be…Nor how she'd been used as a pawn in a game even the players only partially understood.

He paused at viewing the next passenger, a rather surprisingly famous one…The star of a number of reasonably successful TV series and some films, likewise reasonably successful and regarded…Ginger Grant, sprawled about a portion of deck, her famed red hair tossed about her, still in the quite elegant green gown she'd boarded in three days ago, covered by a yellow oilskin coat, her high-heeled shoes kicked into a corner….

Equally clueless as to the fatefulness of her decision to board and her status as another mere pawn, despite her claims to Hollywood-style fame. A desire to momentarily escape an overly enthusiastic fan group pursuing her on her "vacation" as well as a tourist's curiosity motivating her.

The third, also sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, a tall man in his early forties, of striking good looks and reasonably good build, Professor Roy Walter Hinkle, professor of both chemistry and physics at a small state college…

Though likewise a pawn, a man with deeper motive than mere tourist's curiosity for making this supposedly brief and entertaining voyage.

The fourth, a heavy-set man, seated in a bolted desk chair, captain's hat askew on his balding, white-haired head, likely the most exhausted of all, Captain, or as he preferred to designate himself, "Skipper" of the Minnow, Jonas Grumbie…A Navy veteran who'd seen battleship duty as a junior officer and commanded a light cruiser before his retirement a number of years ago…

His supposed retirement…Equivalent to his supposed former duties in the Navy…Not entirely summing him up.

Known to friends and many others throughout the South Seas as an old salt, a bit cantankerous but a true lover of the sea and a capable and able sailor who'd refused to give up the sea in retirement, choosing to start a small charter business rather than accept a number of more lucrative and shore-based offers….

Bit of an old fossil of the sea and nearly out to pasture, but lovable all the same…

They couldn't be much more wrong…

And below, resting in the only bunks on the ship, the special passengers, quite famous and even rather astounding types to have boarded such a relatively simple vessel…

Billionaire and would-be president Fredwyn "Fred" C. Crumpt…A large, bustery, outspoken man, considered even by his friends and followers rather hot-headed and loose with the truth and facts…Hated and despised by many, loved and even idolized by many, most of those vastly ignorant of his true nature, underestimated by many, but by those in the know considered the gravest threat to the integrity and security of the United States since Adolf Hitler…A personal hero of Crumpt, who liked his leaders domineering and ruthless…And had little regard or liking for the restraints of law or democracy.

But hey, having no real ideology he admired Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, the Kims as well…Guys who got things done and took nuthin' from nobody. Like his teenaged self with eighty year old Sister Agatha, who'd tried to teach him the rudiments of music…He'd taken no guff from her…Nevermind if some say she beat the crap out of him when he tried to hit her and he wound up in reform…er, military school till college.

Though a number in the know quite well aware of his recent and increasing business failures and administrative incompetence somewhat masked by his abrasive, intimidating, and challengingly aggressive style…At least on TV…And aware that the "billionaire"'s title was an exaggeration if not an outright deception. And that "traitor" as well as "con man", "thief", "liar", and some were sure, "murderer", could be numbered among his titles.

His wife, Lovely Iwanka Crumpt…Former Slobovian model and actress, some would say "porn star", others with more factual evidence "hotel maid", in Crumpt's large but now crumbling from shoddy construction, "Crumpt Palace and Casino" in the Slobovian capital, Dobka , his would-be first lady, thirty-two years his younger and a good candidate for most depressed woman in America…

Lovely's only solaces…Her wealth via Crumpt, the social whirl she'd be able to drown herself in with the eager demand of her husband and his campaign staff, and her hope of again meeting that oh, so nice President Obama who'd been so kind to her at several events, noting Fredwyn's utter lack of attention to his wife…

How such a couple had found themselves on a, as Crumpt had described it on boarding at one of the most isolated of the Hawaiian Islands, "f-ing shithole of a boat", is a major facet in the story of how these seven came to be stranded…

And at last the man watching all…Amazingly alert for one who'd been through three days of desperate labor to survive, and carrying most of the burden of keeping the ship afloat…William Gill(igan)…

By appearance, a friendly, if awkward, fresh-faced young man, in his mid 20s, perhaps a bit gawky and angular, yet charming in his diffident but always kind and sympathetic manner…

In reality, a man of utter ruthlessness and rather remarkable abilities…Which his alert attentiveness was in part demonstrating just now…

In fact the actual commander of the operation underway…Though deferring, as always…And with sincere respect…To Grumbie…A man whose fame, while necessarily narrow, was legendary in the organization they served and the profession they espoused.

A fame that inspired as much fear as respect…Though due to the nature of their work and the secretiveness of their organization and Grumbie's need to maintain his façade with sincerity…A forgotten fame as far as the "Skipper" was concerned.

Though just now, Jonas Grumbie…Top CIA special agent and infamous cleaner…Handler of many a "problem" foreign leader in his day…Was needed.

Gill(igan) rose…Moving to Grumbie cautiously…

Time for the "Skipper" to take a hike and "Grum the Cleaner" to emerge…He pulled out a small device and opening Grumbie's eyes shined it into each for twenty seconds.

"Gill." Grumbie, instantly awake. Lowering voice immediately at Gill(igan)'s look "What's the situation?"

"A bit of a change of plans due to the storms…But we've arrived. And the situation is even more favorable. The ship's badly damaged, there's no working radio contact…And the Isle seems deserted."

"Excellent." Grumbie nodded. "And Crumpt?"

"Below, sleeping like a fat traitorous baby…The wife is with him."

"Not here. And leave her be."

"Of course…I understand. This must seem believable…And tragic." Gill(igan) noted.

"Exactly…" Grumbie eyed the others, noting Ms. Grant. Lovely thing…One fringe benefit of this mission to have her along. I should get her autograph for my granddaughters, real fans.

"They know me as the 'Skipper' then?"

"And me as 'good ole Gilligan'." Gill(igan) nodded.

"Excellent work, Gill…igan as always." Grumble smiled.

"Skipper." Gilligan nodded.

"Hey!" bellow from below… "What's going on here?! Where are we?!"

See to him…But as Gilligan…Grumbie hissed. Gilligan, a nod. Not yet place or time…

"Hey, Mr. Crumpt!" Cheery tone… "We're saved! Sorta!" he called down the open hatch.

"What the fuck is dis! Whatdaya mean, 'saved', ya fucking punk?! Is a boat here? Get down here and get me outta dis mess here!"

"Coming right away, sir!" Gilligan called.

"It's all fine, Mr. Crumpt!" Grumbie added. "We made it to where you wanted. Gilligan'll help you up on deck in a mo. Go on lil' buddy." He smiled cheerily at Gilligan.

"It betta be!" bellow. "Get that punk down here, now! Or somebody's gonna regret it!"

"Coming right now, sir!" Gilligan called. "Just seeing to a couple of the other passengers!"

"Fuck dem! Get down here!"

Grumbie eyed Gill(igan)…

Try to keep your temper with this ahole…

Gill(igan) nodding…Sure.

Not like it's gonna be more than a day at most…Both smiling.

…

Part I…

The Professor now awake, scanning the horizon on the tilted deck with the Skipper…Gilligan off the boat to fetch what wood he could and see what might be available as to food and water nearby…

"Lucky you know these waters better than the charts, Skipper…" he noted. "We'd never have found this island."

"I just remembered passing it once on a tour…And the currents suggested there was land near. Afraid I didn't do so well getting through the shoals."

"You couldn't have known them without a decent chart or landing here before. We're lucky to be alive thanks to you and Gilligan." Hinkle noted.

Lucky…Yeah…He sighed to himself.

Well, at least I'm here and not there…With her…

And for the moment, feeling damned good.

"And the way you handled the boat in these storms, these past three days…" he continued.

God knows I know what poor approbation the world offers most of us doing what keeps the rest of us alive…

"I doubt the others will see it in so kind a light, Professor. But thanks…" Grumbie sighed.

"Any idea where we are…?"

"About 1200 nautical miles southeast of Hawaii…" the Skipper noted. "We can try to get a fix on the sun in a bit…"

"Radio's still out?"

"Yeah…But we can take a look in a bit…"

Groan from Ms. Grant on deck…Ohhh…

"Either I had a wicked hangover at the longest party ever or…" she looked round. "Yeah, still here…"

"Hello, Miss Grant." Grumbie waved. "Come on over and have a little coffee. I managed to get the generator running…"

"Hey! Grumbie!" bellow from below. "Where's my coffee and some breakfast?!"

"God, what an asshole…" Ms. Grant fumed, rising to sit up. I don't care what he could do for my flagging career, he's worse than Harvey.

…

"It's really a miracle that we're alive, praise Jesus." Ms. Wholesomeby, fervently, now up and busily helping to prepare food from the ship's limited stores, to Ginger.

"I guess…" Miss Grant sighed. Sipping at her coffee…Ehew…Well, best be careful with it. The Skipper says it's all we have, unless we're lucky enough to find a coffee shop on this godforsaken place.

"Mr. Crumpt?" Ms. Wholesomeby called, cheerily. "I've got your eggs, would you…"

"Get em the fuck down here!" bellow from below.

"Would you like salt and pepper?"

"I said, bring em…I been waiting an hour!"

"Sorry…"

"Bring the salt and pepper too and I want toast…Butter! And more coffee that isn't this crap! Cmon, cmon!"

"Tell that sob to come up and get it himself…" Ginger fumed.

"Now, now…He's a busy man." Mary shook head. "Sorry, we don't have toast!"

Busy? At what? Ginger thought. Lifting food to his mouth?

"FFFFucck you, bitch! Find some! Or you fired!"

"She doesn't work for you or this boat, asshole!" Ginger called.

"Who the hell asked you?! Just get that food down here! Now!" cry.

"What about your wife, fat-face?!" Ginger called. "You wanna bother asking her if she'd like something?"

Lovely staring up, wanly…Oh, my…

"F-you, who are you?" Crumpt's bellow.

"Drag your fat carass up here and find out!" she called.

"Miss Grant…" Mary, blushing. "You can't talk that way to Fredwyn Crumpt. He's an important man." She said, eyes wide. "He'll be President and we shouldn't talk like that to him."

"I'll talk how I like to whom I like, sweetheart…And God forbid." Ginger frowned. "Go on and take his breakfast to him if you like…"

Simp…She did not say as Mary, sighing, took two plates up, reaching for a mug.

"Let me help you with that, Ms. Wholesomeby." Hinkle took a plate from her.

"Thank you, Professor…You're very kind." She beamed.

"Well, I still agree with Miss Grant. Crumpt should haul his rear up here for his breakfast but let me help you if you're so determined…" he smiled.

"I just don't see why we can't try to be kind to each other in this terrible situation…" Mary shook head.

"Well, perhaps that's a good attitude." The Professor nodded. "But others ought to return the favor…"

"Oh, but he's a great man…He has many cares."

"Getting elected to save what's left of his fortune?" Ginger, sarcastically.

"Now, Miss Grant…Everyone knows Mr. Crumpt is a financial genius and the greatest businessman in America, probably the world, right Professor Hinkle?"

"Where the hell did you get that from?" Ginger, chuckling.

"He says so…On his TV show."

"I'm afraid what little I know of the man doesn't support that hypothesis…" Hinkle eyed Mary. "He's repeatedly failed in business and those business news sources I've seen agree he's a laughing stock for most businessmen."

"And it's not 'his show'…He's just on it." Ginger, firmly.

"Oh, those are lies…The liberal media will do anything to tear him down…" Mary shook head.

…

Gill(igan) on the beach, lugging some large pieces of driftwood…Peering into the jungle-like woods.

If previous evaluation of the Isle still hold true, there ought to be enough food to keep all of us quite well. Of course, the place has been abandoned for twenty years since the Agency pulled out…

Unless of course the vague rumors and unexplained signs are true and someone has been here, either by accident of travel or shipwreck…Or by active choice.

But that's the other half of this assignment…Survey the Isle completely and see if anyone has come poking around, trying to find what the Agency was up to here all those years ago…

Though the fears back at the Agency that's it's Putinsky and his people, seeking after anything we might have left here, can rest now, he smiled…A boy's smile, overlaid with something else, a bit terrifying.

Can't wait to see Crumpt's reaction when he learns what's happened in St. Petersberg and Moscow…

About time the President approved action on the sob…And after all, all we've done is let the Russian people learn the true nature of their ruler and his mob. How low this man was willing to go for power…

And Russians are very attached to their kids, sadly for Mr. P…

He continued on…Far back in the woods a slight movement went undetected by him…

Deep underground in the Isle, in a site not even known to the Agency and sealed off from their own long abandoned laboratory, many dozens of feet above, a large, burly, immensely strong-looking middle-aged man peered at a screen…

"Master?" he spoke to microphone. "It's true as you thought…Someone has landed on the Isle. I saw one man walking the beach and there's a damaged boat with several people aboard."

At least one very lovely…Despite looking a bit travel-worn, poor thing, on close-up…

"Yes, I was sure the radar signal was not a trick of the storm…" a voice on speaker replied, in accented voice. "But they seem merely castaways? Stranded?"

"It seems so…"

"Excellent, Igor, excellent…Just what we need…More subjects."

"Uh, yes…Master…" a bit hesitant.

"Igor? I tole you. I've worked out the bugs with the last batch from that group who had fled the mad hunter billionaire's island."

"Yes, Dr. Balinkoff…I know, sir. But I keep thinking of poor Amelia…" sigh.

"A minor mishap…And the process worked perfectly. How could we help her counterpart escaping the lab?"

"I blame myself, Master…For leaving that door ajar." Shake of head.

"Hardly…Who'd've guessed she'd recovered fast enough to figure out how to work the elevator to the surface? I mean her human mind, in the brain of a chicken? Amazing recovery of some faculties..."

"Master? She's wandering around up there, among those people, her counterpart…" Igor noted, worriedly. "If they find her, they'll…Probably eat her, memories and mind stuck in that little brain. And you've said we might still recover much of her mind and memory."

"If we are quick, yes." Reflective tone on speaker. "It's remarkable that small brain has contained so much for this long but it cannot do so forever…Ah, thank you Amelia." Seated in his office off his main lab, two levels down, the mysterious Dr. Boris Bakinkoff, genius scientist…Scientist, yes, mad, no…Formerly seeking to rule or at least hold the world for the CIA, now an independent contractor, eyed the tall blonde woman in rather battered stewardess uniform before him holding tray.

"Bck Bck..Bck,bck…" she croaked offering tray, head wagging at each bck!.

"Yes, carefully...Just set it down, dear…Dooowwnn…" Balinkoff motioned. "And hold your head still, high, like the great human lady you are…Hold…" She eyed him, holding head more steadily, following his arms to set tray down.

"Very good, dear. Now go back to your room, go, go…" he fluttered hands at her, she hurrying off out door, bac, bac bac urping as she did.

"Remarkable…She's learning more every day." He told his microphone.

"Yes…But, Master…" the speaker, anxious tone.

"Yes, yes…I suppose we can't leave her like this if it's still possible to restore her. You may try to find her counterpart above again, but be very careful…Discreet. And Igor…? My boy…You do realize in Science there are no mistakes. Only lessons learned. Her sacrifice and the others' shall not be in vain."

"Yes, Master…" sigh.

"And we can still train her in the human body to act…Somewhat…Human…If all else fails. The physical brain is intact. I know that's not quite how you'd like it but…It would be a marvelous achievement in understanding the animal world. The things she could tell us…"

"Yes, Master…But I wish to try…"

"Of course, certainly…And, Igor? Learn all you can about those other people…I have…Plans for them. Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hah…Though I promise, no more small animal experiments." Solemn tone.

"Yes, Master…Thank you, Master."

…

On the Isle's surface…Near the secret exit of the elevator to Balinkoff's hidden lair, concealed in the denser jungle…

Close to ground forward view…As if someone of very low height were looking about…

Go…Go…Move…Run…Mustn't stay…Hmmn…

Peck, peck…

Good…Go…Move…Ah! Snake!

The chicken running along backed off hurriedly from a snake near to striking…Hissing at it.

You go! Go…Hiss!

Gotta go…Run. Where?

Run…Oooh, water…

Peck, peck, sip…At puddle…

Run…Run…

Gotta get back…Find him…

Find me…

Who?

Me…Amelia…

No find me…Can't.

Not safe…Run, run…

The chicken raced across a clearing…

Find in way…Find Igor.

He say…Help.

No…Yes…

Find rest…Others…

Still some…Where?

In…In…Hill…Down, yes…

Down, down…Lab…

Hard to think…

Amelia Donovan…I am…

Still…Fix…Hurry…

Home…Go home…

Must find in way…

Run! At sound of cracking branch…

Oh…Nice. Peck, peck.

Peck…Eehew…Don't eat own poop, God.


	2. Chapter 2

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part II…

Screaming and sounds of plates striking wall within the Minnow…Ginger on deck, sorting through her meager belongings…It was only supposed to be a three hour tour, after all…Professor Hinkle trying to tinker with the ship's radio transmitter…Hopeless, he was sure, but it had to be tried…Both looking over to the stairs below up which Mary Wholesomeby now ran, shocked and frightened…

Crumpt's angry screams pursuing her… "Get this slop out of my face! You're fired, you worthless little…! Who's your supervisor?! Grumbie! Kick her off the boat!" She raced for the stern, in tears, nervously shaking, taking a seat on the slanted deck.

"She doesn't work for him or you, asshole!" Ginger called back.

"Shut up! I'm in charge here! Grumbie! I'm buyin' this boat! Now! Kick that one off, too!"

"I should let him…" the Skipper winked at Miss Grant who smiled. "But he might try to claim some of the useful stuff. Sorry, Mr. Crumpt…" he raised voice. "My boat's not for sale…And these ladies are passengers too. So pipe down and either eat what we offer you or go find your own!"

"Grumbie! I'm gonna sue you! All of you!" scream…

"Oh, I'm getting off…" Ginger rolled eyes. "I need a walk anyway."

"Let me help you down, Miss Grant…" the Professor came over.

"Thanks…" she eyed him. He coming over to the railing where the ladder ran down, lengthened to reach the ground by a second, rope ladder attachment…Putting a steadying hand on the railing at the ladder…Awaiting…

Not bad…She eyed him.

Not bad at all…Still, lets find out what's what before we go on the prowl, eh girl?

"Careful…" he cautioned as she clambered over…

Ok, we can do a nice little stroll and get to know…She blinked as he left her as she stepped on the rope ladder's first rung.

"Skipper? I want to try and see if I can bypass this broken bulb. Do you have an insulated wrench?"

"I'll get it from the tool kit, Professor, just a sec." Grumbie rose and head to the pilot cabin.

Ginger staring from the ladder as Ms. Wholesomeby came over to her…

"Can I go too? I'd like to see the island."

"Yeah…Sure." Ginger frowned over at the professor…

Geesh…A lot richer and better-looking guys than you haven't gotten as far as you just had the chance too, buddy…

"Here you go, Professor…" the Skipper had returned with desired object.

"Thanks…" Hinkle began fussing with the wrench.

"Say, ladies." The Skipper called. "Be careful out there…Don't go too far from the boat. Remember Gillligan's still checking the area. Especially keep clear of those woods till we know what's in there."

"We will, Skipper." Mary called from ladder, waving…Urging Ginger now to continue on down.

Geesh…Not even running to be my knight protector….Ginger looked over at the Skipper.

What's with these guys?

"Miss Grant?" Mary called.

"Yeah…?"

"Could you go on down? I can't go further."

"Sure, yeah…" she descended to the ground.

…

A fuming Crumpt climbed the stairs… "Hey! You! Grumbie!" he pointed a fat finger at Jonas, now beside the Professor, eyeing the radio transmitter's scattered parts as the Professor examined and set aside various components.

"Mr. Crumpt." Grumbie nodded to him.

"Those dames leave Iike I tole them? Good…" Crumpt nodded. "Don't let em back on my boat."

"It's my boat, sir…And I'm Captain and they stay." Grumbie, sternly regarding the large, florid-faced man.

"I just bought this shitpile." Crumpt eyed him, eyes narrow, nostrils flaring…

"You did not, sir." Grumbie regarded him. "Now if you don't have a question to ask, either go below or find something useful to do."

"You don't tell Crumpt what to do!"

"On this boat, I do." Grumbie, firmly.

"I'm gonna sue you…You, there, in the white shirt!" Crumpt turned to Hinkle. "You're hired…Security. Grab dis guy!"

"No." the Professor looked up briefly.

"Jesus…Christ…I'll have you in jail, Grumbie! All you clowns locked up!" Crumpt fumed.

"For what?" Hinkle eyed him. "I know you're known for hounding innocent and defenseless folks but what would you charge us with?"

"When I'm President...I won't need ta 'charge' anybody...What I say will go! Who are you, anyway?!"

"Just a fellow passenger, friend. Who thinks you ought to go below and pipe down."

"Who is this guy, Grumbie?!" Crumpt bellowed.

"I don't give out names of my passengers, Mr. Crumpt." the Skipper shrugged. "Except to the authorities when necessary."

"I am the Authority, Grumbie!"

"Not on my boat and not yet in my country, sir. And even the President, should you manage to win the nomination and the election, is only the elected chief magistrate." the Skipper eyed him.

"I hear Rubio and Romney lead in the polls in your party, now that that fellow Trwump's gone to jail for fraud over that phony university." Hinkle noted.

Red-face, narrow piggy eyes focused on him… "You fucking little nobody!"

"That's enough mister...Pipe down and go below or get off my boat." the Skipper ordered.

Crumpt looking at him…Fuming with rage...Veins popping on head.

Hmmn...We may not have to bother about this...Grumbie eyed the raging maniac.

"#% $ !" Crumpt screamed, turning and heading down the stairs… "Lovely?!" they heard him call… "Go kick their asses!"

"Fred?" her voice…

"I said Go!" bellow.

The Professor eyed the Skipper...Smiling…

Mrs. Crumpt wearily coming up the stairs… "Excuse me...Fred's indisposed. I apologize if he lost his temper, he's very upset."

"LOVELY!" a scream…

"As you hear..." she sighed. "Sorry...Let us know if you learn anything about when we can go home." she turned.

"Jesus, lady..." Ginger had come back up the ladder…"Don't go back down there with him."

Need my purse...She explained to the Skipper who eyed her, a bit …

"No...See..." she opened it. "I got mace and this blowhorn thing...Plus a blackjack an ole boyfriend of mine gave me. He was in the Mob...We broke up when I found out but he wanted me to keep it for protection. A nice guy in some ways, really..."

Oh...The Skipper nodded.

Weary shrug of shoulders without looking back… "Made the bed, lie in it." Mrs. Crumpt continued down…

"God, talk about it not being worth it..." Ginger looked after her, shaking head.

"Well..." Mary Wholesomeby had rejoined the group, climbing back up, not really finding the empty beach a comfortable waiting place, nor wishing to stroll alone. "She did say he was upset...We all are, after all. Oooh, no offense, Mr. Grumbie." she hastily added. "We know it wasn't your fault we were stranded here, wherever we are."

"Thanks, ma'am." the Skipper nodded. "We'll try to get you all home soon as possible. Gilligan's searching the island for any signs of civilization as well as food and water, and Professor Hinkle here is working on the radio transmitter."

"Oh, good." Mary nodded, beaming. "I'm sure with God's help you'll get us home soon. After all, Mr. Crumpt is a very important man, they'll be looking for him."

Will they…? The Skipper smiled at her, nodding…

"Why, sure..."

"Just where are we, by the way? Do you know?" Ginger asked.

"We're determining that...But roughly a thousand miles from Hawaii to the southeast..." Grumbie noted.

"A thousand miles?" Ginger stared.

"That's not really so far nowadays..." Mary noted happily.

"And no signs of civilization so far?" Ginger asked.

"Not yet, but there are a lot of islands out here, a lot with people on them and some contact with the rest of the world..." the Skipper noted.

"Great..." she frowned sourly.

"Miss Grant, the Skipper's doing all he can. He wasn't responsible for the storms that blew us out to sea, in fact his seamanship and his mate's work saved our lives." the Professor noted.

"Yeah, I know...Sorry..." She put up a hand. "It's just not the way I wanted my vacation to go, ok?" she smiled wanly.

"I understand...I will get you all home." the Skipper, firmly.

Well, all but one...If you don't become liabilities…

After all we'll need witnesses that Crumpt died a natural, more or less, death…

"Ok, well. You still coming?" Ginger eyed Mary. "Let see if we can go find...What's the kid's name again?" she turned to Grumbie.

"Gilligan..."

"Gilligan, right..." nod.

"Oh...Are you sure he's ok out there by himself?" Mary asked, anxiously. "He has declared himself to Jesus and been saved, hasn't he?"

"I don't think so, no." the Skipper shrugged. "But he's fine. He's not going far and he'll come back if he sees anything dangerous."

Not that there's likely anything more dangerous than Will Gill(igan).

"And we'll be there too, if we go...He'll be fine...Come on..." Ginger urged.

"Oh, certainly." Mary followed her back to the ladder and down…

"Miss Grant…?" she addressed Ginger.

"Yeah..." Ginger peering to the horizon...No sign of the kid as yet. Nothing. Nada...Just sand, the jungle and woods to the right, the sea to the left…

"Do you think, not meaning to intrude...That you might try wearing something a bit less...Revealing...Amongst the men? I have some very nice garments I'd brought along to give to the poor natives on the island I was to be dropped at."

"What?" Ginger stared. "What poor natives? And what sort of garments? Nevermind, I can imagine the garments..." she eyed Mary's gingham dress.

"Why the poor natives of Maui..." Mary noted. "My pastor said they're in need but I had very little money left to contribute so I asked if I could drop off clothes and he said..."

"'F-you, where's my dough?'" Ginger asked, sarcastically.

"After that...Though it was, 'Where's God's dough?'" Mary noted.

….

Very pretty lady...Igor, watching Ginger on screen of his cell phone as he rode elevator to surface, various camouflaged cameras in close up on the Minnow's deck.

I have seen that lady before...Oh, wait...Is that? Ginger Grant? Igor blinked at his phone screen as the elevator stopped.

Wow. A real movie star...I've seen so many of her films and TV shows...I can't believe I'm unfortunately for her going to meet her.

The elevator door opened in the rock face that camouflaged it. He pocketed his phone, cautiously peered out, moving some phony vegetation away as he stepped out.

"Amelia?" he hissed cautiously, moving carefully into the jungle around the rock face. "Here, Amelia...Here chick, chick, chick...Got some nice grain for you." He shook a box full of grain… "C'mon, Amelia, it's Igor...Your friend...I wanna help you."

...

Gill(igan) cautiously surveying the beach ahead. He'd been walking down it for over a mile without seeing a sign of any people or habitation.

So far, so good...And he'd noted some coconut palms...Potential for some food, at least, along with whatever fish swam near and any animals…

Some low plants in the jungle and forest bordering on the beachfront seemed likely edible, probably herbs. He'd need to confirm it, probably with that Professor...Hinkle? Yes…

Interesting there were no old signs of the island's use as yet...The cleanup must have been thorough…

Hmmn...He perked up ears at a sound…

Was that...A chicken?

Ooops...He stumbled on some wood…

Charred wood…

Ah, somebody...And not too long ago...Built a fire here.

Too crude for trained personnel...Either a native or some schnook who got him- or her- self lost or wrecked here…He looked about…

Nothing, nobody…

But time to bring out that good ole Gillligan, bumbling and stumbling but always with the best intentions…

Here too...Namely intelligence gathering and saving the United States from its worst traitor and his foreign partners.

Those gotta be pretty good intentions, however ruthlessly applied.

"Hello?!" he called. "Sorry if I wrecked your fire...I didn't see it till I stepped in it." he sheepishly noted. "Hello? Anyone there?! My friends and I were just stranded here, we could use some help…!"

Yes, to the right, trying to hide in the brush and trees there...That crackling a dead giveaway. Two, I'd say, a large man, not greatest of shape...And a woman...Or a thin man.

"Keep down, Karen!" the said large man hissed to his companion, a tall, rather formidably plain woman, both in the remnants of track suits. She frowning at him…

"We oughta take him...I can take him." she noted.

"He doesn't seem to be one of them..." the man shook head. "Maybe he's just another castaway...Maybe one of us? We keep finding people we didn't know were on the plane?"

"Nah, he's too well dressed..." Karen frowned.

"He's coming this way...He's spotted us!" the man, nervously.

"Impossible...We're too well..." she began...Glaring at the man as a loud fart came from him.

"Damnit, Steve!"

"Sorry...I said I had to use the facilities before we came out here..." Steve sighed. "All that coconut oil doesn't agree with me."

"Hey!" Gilligan waved at them…Having decided not to kill on sight. "It's ok, I'm just trying to find anyone I can...You can come on out, I won't..." Probably… "Hurt you." he noted.

Bck! Bck! A large chicken came running between him and the two hidden others…

"It's that chicken again!" Steve cried, rising. "Hey, catch that chicken, will ya?!" he called to Gilligan, hopping a bit on badly injured right leg.

Karen, sighing, but rising as well, her left leg likewise badly injured. The two leaning on each other…

"Sorry...She got away." Gilligan noted, smiling at them.

Hmmn...Balinkoff, in his office, scanning monitor screens.

So...Some of my former "guests"...Mah, ha, ha, hahah… Did survive.

Why, it's Steve? Oh, how nice...I rather liked Steve...He thought.

Oh...Karen, too…Frown.

Great…Sour look.

Thought for sure we'd seen the last of her..Well…

I'm sure I can permanently improve her attitude now…Get her to smile a little, once in a while.

And then, a little make-up...Maybe a new hair style...


	3. Chapter 3

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part III…

"So you have a boat…?" the heavy-set mustachioed man named as "Steve" eagerly addressed Gilligan as he and Karen, leaning on each other to use their respective good legs, walked beside him on the way back to the Minnow.

"Yeah, the Minnow, but she took a bad pounding in some storms coming here and we took some big holes getting through the shoals and reef here." Gilligan sighed. "But at least we're all alive..." he brightened. "And maybe the Professor can fix our radio...Say, is your plane here? Maybe we could get spare parts."

"Nah..." Karen shook head. "That's two or was it, three…? Mostly deserted islands back. We sailed here on some of the mad billionaire who hunted us' motorboats. Obviously they didn't have much poop to them. And no radios on them."

"Wow..." Gilligan stared. "This guy actually hunted people?"

"He and a few very rich friends, yeah..." Steve noted. "And it was a shame, at first he seemed a really nice guy...And you know, his taste in wives was not what you'd expect...Take that guy Trump or the other one, Crumpt, for instance...Say did either actually run for President? That must have been a joke..." he grinned.

"Trump went to prison for fraud...Mr. Crumpt is running and he may win the nomination...Somehow...If he manages to get back home. He's here." Gilligan told them to stunned surprise.

"Here?" Karen stared… "He finally had to flee the cops too?"

"No, he and his wife took our charter...Kinda strange...He came up in his limo just before we were gonna do our last sail and came on board. His wife too. Seemed a little odd..." Gilligan shook head.

Though very well planned...More so on Jonas' and the Agency's part than Crumpt's. Right down to the stoolie Russian contact and the arranged isolated key meeting with Putinsky's agents.

"Ya think? The guy's supposed to be a billionaire, though frankly I thought he was bankrupt ever since I saw himtrying to shill his brands of salsa, t-shirts, and window cleaner on Letterman, right after Trump did his dance there. God, I'd thought Letterman mocked Trump but Crumpt...What a clown. But he's still trying to get the nomination?" Karen stared.

"They say he'll get it...If he gets back alive, of course." Gilligan noted, innocently.

"Well, they do say he'll 'Make America 1925 Again'." Steve nodded. "That appeals to a lot of the Republican/Klan Party since the Dixiecrats took over in their plot to use Lincoln's party to turn things back to 1860."

"He says, there's no 'they'." Karen fumed. "And he's in league with the Russians."

"Karen's a Bernie supporter." Steve explained. "They see conspiracies everywhere."

Well this one's right...Gilligan thought. And I got the confessions from captured Russian agents to prove it, if those could ever see the light of day…

"But why did you leave the other island, once you..."

"...Killed, beheaded, peed on...That guy and his rich friends." Karen noted.

"...He didn't have anything but those motorboats?" Gilligan asked, carefully.

"Oh, he had a helicopter...But Owen, one of our dumbest dumbasses crashed it." Karen frowned.

"Amazing that he survived that one as well..." Steve reflected.

"And he had a radio transmitter...We called for help...But the only people in range were friends of his and Danny's evil sister."

"Danny?" Gilligan asked.

"Our billionaire...Or would be if he's survived and will live to see home again." Steve noted. "Very nice guy for a billionaire. But he's his father's heir and the sis, who seemed a nice person at first, is determined to either leave him stranded or better yet, kill him. She blackmailed the friends of the mad billionaire to send a squad of mercenaries to kill us all and leave no traces else she'd tell the world how they hunted people."

"Probably no one but the International Criminal Court would act but it would look bad for their charity fundraising..." Karen noted.

"Yeah...I see that." Gilligan nodded.

"So after they firebombed the island and strafed us, killing some of us whom none of our own clique really knew at all...So…" Karen shrugged. "We managed to find a secret Nazi underground base, the billionaire guy was of course, a neoNazi as well, like Trump and I hear, Crumpt, that he'd kept intact, right under his mansion, for old and neo- Nazi meetings with a secret Nazi prototype missile defense system that had never been used but he kept to show off to the old Nazis..."

"Fortunately Danny, Karen, and I got it to work..." Steve noted proudly.

Karen rolling eyes...Me...Me got it to work...She mouthed to Gilligan.

"Yeah...In any case those little suckers took out the two helicopters the mercenaries had and the electric fence on the property took out the only two survivors on the ground." she nodded.

"Then we found an old U-boat in the submarine pens of the base, but that sank..." Steve sighed.

Yeah...Karen eyed Gilligan "sank"...Rolling eyes.

Cut to shot of Owen, a tall, lanky, bearded guy in worn track suit, and Danny, a heavy-set, bearded guy likewise in track suit, in Uboat, screaming at Steve trying to close the valve he'd just turned to see what it did as the sub filled with water…

"So then we took the motorboats but they weren't really designed for open ocean sailing..." Steve went on. "So, just before we would've sunk we spotted this island...I was rather hoping it was New Zealand, my home, you know...And landed here." he concluded.

"Oh..." Gilligan smiled. "So...There are more of you..."

Hmmn. A problem...That may require Grum the Cleanser as well as me…A few witnesses, great. Too many and there could be ramifications that could unsettle the government of the United States and more important, compromise the Agency.

Could be as bad as Bernie actually beating Hillary and winning the Presidency…

Crumpt would've been worse, of course...But that problem is just about dealt with...

"...A happy ending, huh?" he innocently and brightly noted. Narrow-eyed stare when the two looked elsewhere…

Yeah… "You were lucky. How many of you were...Lucky?"

"Seven of us..." Karen noted… "All that was left...Except for people we left behind on the first and second islands, natch. And then some of us..."

"Died?"

Hopefully...And good for you, I think we could deal with just two more…

"...disappeared." she eyed him.

Hmmn...Disappeared as in, tragic accidents...Or, as in checked in with the Russkie equivalent of the Agency?

"Just disappeared, no trace?" Gilligan stared.

"Oh, one came back..." Steve sighed. "After two months, during which the remaining three of us fought to survive..."

Karen, mouthing...When I carried these chumps…Figuring if all else failed I could feed on them for a year...

"Jess came back...Someone we actually knew and have associated with for months...But it wasn't Jess." Steve solemnly.

"That's still under dispute..." Karen noted. "Remember she lost her memory and became a different person on the last island for a while."

"Yes, but she didn't return in a uniform-ish outfit then, with a rather large gun, and try to capture us for her employer." Steve noted.

Hmmn...Boris, watching, trying to read lips as the sound quality was just terrible...Going in and out all the time. Really have to replace some of this ole CIA equipment from the 70s soon.

I think they're telling the boy there who found them about Jess coming for them...

Perhaps, now I've located them again at last, I should send her out after them again…

With backup…? Igor's already out there, looking for Amelia's host again. Poor fellow, I sense that romance was doomed from the start when he captured her for me.

Or, perhaps best to just let the boy and his fellow castaways think these two are nuts. They won't be able to locate my base within the old base. And if these new people are not the innocent fools they seem, with the launch just days away now, I can't afford to have the island swarming with US agents. Or agents from anywheres, really.

Not trying to be jingoistic here.

Yes, for now...Till I know more about these mysterious castaways...Best not to show Balinkoff's dark hand...Mah, ha, ha, ha, hah!

Look, I tole you...Scientist, yes...Mad, no. He eyes us firmly, pressing a button.

"Dr. Balinkoff? Security here." a woman's voice on speaker.

"Yes...I want you to cancel the next physical security sweeps of the island...Monitor the new arrivals by camera and radar only for now. I want to know who they are without arousing any suspicions. Understand? Constant monitoring but no physical contact. It should not interfere with the launch, make sure mission control is aware of that. And maintain red alert in case these new people are more dangerous then they seem. Radar and drone sweeps to one thousand miles..."

"Yes, sir. I'll pass that on." Jess, a short lovely Asian-American woman in a sort of grey uniform hung up her microphone at her security monitor station two levels up, peering at various cameras.

Oh...So there's Karen and Steve...Where have they been hiding? And where is Danny? She eyed one monitor. And that's one of the new guys, the young kid.

Not as cute as the guy in the white shirt but not too bad…

Say, was that the Amelia host chicken on camera two just now…?

...


	4. Chapter 4

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part IV…

"So you see..." Mary Wholesomeby was going on to an ever more annoyed Ginger as they walked down the strip of beach… "If the liberals had just been kept from socialistically regulating industry our radio transmitter would have all-American made parts instead of some made by Communists, designed to fail when Americans need them… It's really all the fault of that radical President..."

"Obama's to blame for us being stranded here, eh?" 

"Oh, no...President Lincoln, who was part black you know? That's why he freed the slaves who were all so happy as slaves where they belonged and then he invaded the South...If he hadn't been allowed to be President, the slaves would have stayed slaves and that...#$(*! Kenyan Muslim nig.."

"Enough!" Ginger cried. "Don't make me have to hit you with a rock!"

"I'm just explaining why we're having such troubles, Miss Grant." sigh. "You need to find a good man who'll tell you what to think and give you a baby to take care of..."

"One more word and I'll gut you with a seashell, girl!" Ginger glared. "Jesus, where do freaks like you come from?"

"Kansas..." Mary noted. "And please don't use the Lord's...No!" she ran as Ginger grabbed the nearest seashell, chasing her…

"Oh...Hey..." Steve pointed from where he stood with Karen, balanced on respective good legs, Gilligan beside them at the edge of the woods bordering on the beach, about 200 yards from where Mary was desperately running from a furious Ginger...

"More people!" he noted happily. "Are they yours or ours? Karen?"

"How should I know? I never met half our planeload..." she peered at the running girls…

Oh, Lord…

Ginger Grant…

Frown...

….

"So, no luck?" the Skipper eyed the Professor as he sat back from the opened chassis of the radio transmitter.

"No. I'm afraid it's useless, Skipper." the Professor sighed. "We just don't have the parts to fix it and I can't jury-rig replacements."

Good...I mean...Oh, too bad...The Skipper thought.

I was afraid I might have to toss the thing overboard and claim an animal had taken it…

Loud snores from below...They eyed each other as Mrs. Crumpt emerged from the stairway down.

"He's sleeping?" the Skipper asked, kindly. "Probably the best for him...I'm sure the strain has been hard on him."

"I gave him ten adderals...He'll be out for hours." she sighed, moving to take seat.

"Isn't that dangerous...Adderal is a mix of amphetamine and dextroamphetamine for treating attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and narcolepsy..." the Professor stared.

"And he uses it to get going for sex..." she shrugged. "But it's the only thing puts him out now, he's so addicted."

"Well, I'm sure he needs the rest..." the Skipper noted.

"From what?" Mrs. Crumpt asked. "Sorry...Made my bed, lie in it...My mantra. You guys heard nothing, right?"

"If you like..." the Professor agreed.

"Of course..." the Skipper noted.

"So...We are stuck here?" she asked, slight accent.

Please God...Never to return unless the dickhead dies…

And I could trade return for dickhead dies…

…

"Girls, hey!" Gilligan called, happily. "Found some other people here!" he waved.

Mary and Ginger halting in mid-stride…

Hmmn...Best to put aside differences and homicidal rage, Ginger thought, dropping her seashell fragment in the sand.

Oh, no...She peered at the figures.

It couldn't be…

It is…

"Come on..." she urged the wary Mary on.

"I'm sorry to have scared you, but when I say shut up with me in future, you shut up." she noted.

"Yes, ma'am." Mary nodded.

Oh, for Gawd's sake...What a simp...Ginger sighed.

But...Fine...First lets try to deal with…

Karen…

"Are they really people?" Mary eyed the two.

"Maybe one is, the other's a demon from Hell."

"Oh...My..."

"No, you simp..." Ginger shook head. "I mean she's...Well, a bitch from Hell."

"Hey, come and meet the guys, guys...Gals..." Gilligan called.

"Hello..." Steve, staring… "Aren't you Ginger Grant?"

"And I'm Mary Wholesomeby..." Mary tried. "Praise God we've met..."

"Yeah, hi...Hello, Karen." Ginger, coldly.

Bitch who ruined my career…

"Grant." Karen, curtly.

Spoiled lil' whore who ruined my career…

Gilligan, Steve, Mary exchanging glances…

….

Meanwhile, on the far side of the Isle...A small black rubber dingy had made its way to the shore, carefully wending its way through shoals and reef without damage.

Its occupant, a tall, muscular figure in wet suit carefully stepped off and standing on the beach, peered about, having removed face mask. It quickly deflated the boat and folded it to an amazingly small size, packing it into a small backpack.

The figure removed wet suit, revealing an astoundingly handsome, curly-haired, bearded, adventurous-looking, even of heroic proportions, fellow in khaki shirt and shorts. Removing binoculars from his back pack he scanned the cliffs above…

Good...No sign of any human presence or detection of himself…

He removed a small device from his belt, rather like a cell phone, but far more complex…

"OO9 here M-6...Have landed safely." a rather suave British accent... "Repeat, have landed safely. Do you copy, over?"

"Roger, OO9, message received on encrypted frequency..." British accented reply. "Have you detected any presence or activity, over?"

"None as yet...Will commence surveillance. The volcanic crater is one mile from my landing point. The natives' village should be just a half mile, according to satellite surveillance. I'll report asap once I reach it, over."

"Roger...Received. Proceed with the mission. Good luck, OO9. And do be careful consorting with the native girls...Don't cause another incident, will you? Over."

"Absolutely...And certainly not...Over." the man replaced the communicator on his belt, smiling.

...


	5. Chapter 5

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part V…

Igor, still shaking box of grain as he crept along the jungle path from the elevator...Regarding cell phone to view different camera shots as he moved.

"Amelia...Amelia? Come on, honey. Igor wants to bring you back to your own body...It's fine still."

Hmmn...He eyed a shot of the group on the beach...Ginger Grant again...And that young guy he'd spotted earlier...Another girl...Ohhh...Karen and Steve? Wow, still alive? Nice job, guys.

You mighta thought about poor Amelia if you were out and about…

Oh, Lord...Tell me they couldnta eaten her? Oh...No…

"Amelia?!" louder hiss… "Aw, honey, c'mon. The launch's in two days. Dr. B's not experimenting on people now."

"Ameliaaaa..." Whoa...He eyed the screen.

Did Ms. Grant just assault Karen?

Oooh...Catfight. He settled down on a rock, eyeing screen.

...

"You, bitch from Hell!" Ginger cried, striking again at the woman who'd ruined her career.

"You spoiled, aging..." Karen, pausing, red-faced. Hands raised to cover face…

The others, particularly Steve, given his physically being bonded to Karen by straps made by her from some bamboo, shaken and upset…

Though at least the new guys could keep their distance, Steve thought as Ginger's blow struck him by accident.

"Sorry!" she cried. "Stop using that guy for a shield and face me...Karen! C'mon, director!" mockingly. "Get outta that chair! And on your feet!"

She is on...The others stared.

"Oh, great overacting, as always, Grant!" Karen cried. "I'm on my feet, idiot! And Steve's just getting in my way, as usual..."

Oh, way to hurt me… Steve sighed.

Groaning as he was shifted into the path of another blow…

"Please, stop in Jesus' name!" Mary Wholesomeby cried. "Gilligan? Stop them!"

"Yeah...Guys! You gotta stop this!" Gilligan moved between Karen/Steve and Ginger…

Ooof...He groaned, repressing his killer instincts to accept the blow…

"Oh, Gilligan!" Mary cried as he fell back.

Oh, these women must be Russian Communist lesbians to be able to knock a man down without prayer… I remember back home, when Uncle Henry used to invite me into the barn to see the animals which I thought strange cause it was our barn not his...And our animals were out to pasture…I would pray to Jesus, then knock him flat when I thought that Satan had possessed him as he came at me.

Not seeing in my childish instinct that a good Republican man has the perfect right to…

Gilligan, up again, managed to grab Ginger from behind, pulling her back.

Big girl...And she must've done some self-defensive martial arts...I recognize that last move.

Hey...The kid's stronger than I thought...Ginger thought as she struggled …

Nice...Hafta reconsider this one…Later. First, she raged, held by him…

"Miss Grant, please calm down!" he ordered. "These people aren't trying to hurt us..."

Well, not right now...Steve thought. See how psycho we get in an hour or so…

"Let her go! I can take a thousand spoiled little..."

Arrghh! Ginger struggled…

Hey, really. This kid is pretty strong.

Navy must do some training these days…

"Ok! Let me go! " she cried. "I'll stop if you let me go!"

"Ok..." Gilligan cautiously relaxing grip.

Arrghh...She lunged at Karen again, Gilligan barely reaching her in time…

"Come on, Miss Grant! You said you'd stop!"

"Ok...Ok...I'll stop..." Ginger agreed.

"Then come back over here to Miss Wholesomeby."

"Yeah, go slink back to your trailer, Grant." Karen sneered.

"Karen? Try to make an effort..." Steve urged. "Folks, she's had a very tough time recently..."

"Well la-dee-dah..." Ginger sneered.

"Oh, why must you fight? If only we had some guns...To enforce peace through strength." Mary sighed.

That Skipper seemed such a nice fellow...Too bad he's a liberal snowflake too wussy to defend his private property with a peacemaker.

"Ladies..." Steve sighed. Wait, what?

Director?

Director? Dr. Balinkoff watching on camera four, pondered.

…

"It was a sequel to 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', the TV show, not the..." Karen waved hands.

"I was supposed to be the next Vampire Slayer, only I'd be Buffy reborn again...A little older and more experienced." Ginger sighed. "And aware that I had also lived as Cicely Addams Walthrop the beloved and one-day wife of William Soames Walthrop nee Pratt..."

"Spike from the old series..." Karen noted. "Cicely tried to save William using the demon Halfreck in her form to drive him away when she was tricked into believing that would save him."

"So it was redemption and rescue on my part..." Ginger noted. "I'd take up where 'Buffy' ended and after more than a century, save my husband..."

"Trapped in LA, after he was resurrected by Angel at Wolfram-Hart. Then avoiding Buffy, thinking she didn't love him."

"We started with Sarah getting killed when distracted trying to get to him...Then we'd jump a few years..."

More than a few...Karen mouthed to the others.

"And I'd be a potential Slayer, in a coma in a hospital...Who'd die for a moment, then 'Buffy/Cicely' but equally 'Cicely' now would wake up in me..." Ginger noted.

"She was possessed by a demon?" Mary asked Gilligan, puzzled. "And who is 'Buffy'?"

Forgive me, Jesus...She thought. But I can't reveal to my shame that I used to watch 'Buffy' and 'Angel' in secret at my cousin Susie the whore of Bablylon's house and had a burning unholy yearning for Spike that led me to hate Sarah Gellar for being 'Buffy' the whore who let him die thinking he was unloved.

"It was a brilliant concept that lured me..." Ginger noted.

"She was desperate for something that would get her career rolling again..." Karen frowned. "She'd've been ok, though not my personal best choice. But...We had..."

Oh, Lord not that… Mary sighed. "Surely Jesus was doing you a favor to chill the lust in your hearts for each other..." she noted.

"What?" Karen stared...Ginger stared. "I was married." "I was dating Harvey Weinstein..."

"No..." Karen, firmly… "We had creative differences."

"Bitch wanted me to just kill them, the other vampires...Even poor Drusilla..." Ginger noted. "For Christsake...What was 'Buffy' all about besides the empowerment of women but for her to transcend Slaying to trying to save all these people? Weren't most of them innocent victims like Dru?"

"You were the Slayer. You Slew." Karen frowned. "The redemption stuff and love story with William was enough sentiment. I wanted you a powerful woman, making one exception for the guy she loved. What were you gonna do, kneel and pray for every blood-sucker?"

"You didn't want her to be a mere liberal snowflake..." Mary nodded. "Yet her quest would be to find a man to guide her life correctly."

"What?" Karen stared. "I wanted her strong and powerful...Sure, loving and troubled by guilt, but eager for vengeance over the guy she loved having been whacked by her own Council and Miss Crazy Vampire...Not weepin' over every cloud of dust, a lost soul.?

"Joss agreed with me..." Ginger glared.

"Joss was outta the picture after he sold out to Disney!"

"When did you become a TV director, Karen?" Steve asked, bewildered. "Was it before or after you were Sister Mercy at the cult?"

"After, of course..." Karen frowned. "Just after I got married and when I was pregnant with our first girl."

"Oh, the great excuse..." Ginger fumed. "But why couldn't pregnancy have made you compassionate. You were making my character a heartless killing machine for the Watchers' Council. Some strong woman...Right."

"Well, if she was letting herself be led by men to do what they considered the right thing, sanctioned by Jesus..." Mary reflected.

"You were making the character a wuss!" Karen fumed.

"I was elevating the whole story to one about abandoning male domination to embrace healing and redemption..." Ginger insisted. "Exposing the male-dominated Council as using the Slayer to hold onto power and in balance with Evil when it had plenty of ways to free the trapped souls in those vampires. How could she know William's soul was trapped and could be rescued and just go on staking every other vampire? You took a beautiful romance that helped the character find a higher purpose and..."

"That was her purpose...To stay on that Wall! Guarding Humanity! We needed her on that Wall! We wanted her on that Wall!"

"Oh, yes!" Mary cried. "Like poor wronged Mr. Trump said before they arrested him...We need a Wall!"

"Shut up!" Karen and Ginger, glaring.

"She was getting to be as crazed a killer as Danerys Targaryen." Ginger sighed. "Juliet was horrified by the scene where I was supposed to stake her alive as a restored human..."

"You were angry! She'd killed your husband!" Karen fumed. "That was your motivation!"

"William killed as Spike! She was possessed by a demon and insane! She was tricked by that Watcher of Cicely's and D'Hoffryn." Ginger insisted. "You had me hunting her down, restoring her to Humanity and then murder her?!"

"If that bitch had come near my husband and condemned him to living death..." Karen, grimly.

Wow, they are really up on the story, Mary thought. At least that may give me something to talk about initially when I want to try to open them up to Christ...

Though that's not how Cicely was portrayed in the original…

"Who's D'Hoffryn?" Steve asked.

...


	6. Chapter 6

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part VI…

"Well, if you two would excuse me..." the Professor began…The Skipper and Mrs. Crumpt eyeing him as he stood up.

"You is going to explore? May I come?" Mrs. Crumpt, eagerly.

"Well, I think I should see if Gilligan and the ladies are all right and begin to do my own survey on the flora and fauna here...But perhaps you should..."

"Fred will be out for hours...Please? I needs to get off this boat and stretch my legs." Lovely, pleading tone that suggested her desperation.

Hmmn...Do I sense Romance in the air? The Skipper thought. Nice...Especially since a happy ending for her would make me feel a little better about having to extreme prejudice the husband.

"Probably a good idea to get some exercise. I'll go after you two or Gilligan come back." the Skipper noted. "Just take care and don't go into the woods or jungle till we have a proper team together. Don't know what's in there."

"Perhaps Starbucks?" Lovely, light accent. "That is joke, fellas. I am not so clueless as I seem on TV standing by Fred. I even know how to clean, Skipper. Which share I will do on return."

"Well, given we have no idea if this island's inhabited..." the Professor smiled kindly. The Skipper likewise smiling.

Oh, Lord...I could be so happy with either one if you would just finally let It croke from pills, heart, stroke...Wild animal…Fan learning he is not actually welcome as free guest at Its golf club resort...Lovely thought, smiling back at both, pleasantly.

...

"So your show was canceled…?" Gilligan, trying to saw through the straps binding Steve and Karen's damaged legs, with Ginger's seashell, asked Karen and Ginger, the two having finally both exhausted themselves sufficiently to calm and heeded Mary's pleas to Jesus for poor battered Steve who'd been taking the brunt of their mutual blows...On top of his badly injured leg. "Too bad, I'd've loved a 'Buffy' sequel. But didn't Ms. Gellar…?"

"She wanted to be a stayhome mom...There was some bad feeling with rest of the old cast and crew over her ending the series..." Karen shrugged.

"Yeah, just before...Joss told me...He'd've incorporated the whole new path for the Slayer idea I mentioned along with Buffy and Spike's past life." Ginger, glare at Karen.

"And yet he sold out to Disney..." Karen sneered.

"You didn't have a prob working for the Mouse. I guess a little cash and power trumps principle." Ginger noted, sniffing.

"I was subverting the fascist regime from within..." Karen insisted, angrily.

"Ladies..." Gilligan, soothingly. "Please, no more...At least till we can cut me loose." Steve begged.

"After 'Buffy, the Next Generation', I woulda had a shot at Star Wars...I coulda saved the franchise!" Karen, sighing. "'Star Trek:Dump the Reboot ' with Kirk and Spock deciding Vulcan matters as much as Earth and going back to restore the old timeline."

"Wow." Gilligan noted.

I really need to her back to civilization and maybe see her reinstalled as head of production at Disney. I think I had enough on the current guy already to get him to retire early, just hadn't found the right replacement.

"See...You were never committed to the series." Ginger fumed. "You just wanted to use us as a stepping stone..."

"You oughta know about that...You could give lessons..." Karen eyed her.

"I've never compromised my art!" Ginger raged, rising.

"Ladies, for the love of God..." Steve pleaded. "At least wait till the boy can cut through this bamboo..."

"In Jesus' name...!" Mary chimed in. Karen, Ginger rolling eyes at each other.

"Honey, could you tone it down just a little? I like the nice Jewish rabbi and have dated a few of his kindred but..." Ginger eyed her. Slightest smile to Karen.

"Jewish…?" Mary blinked.

"Joshua-bar-Joseph, if you heave the Greekish name they slapped on him." Karen noted.

"Jew...ish?" Mary stared.

"Yeah, I thought you guys read your Bible all the way through..." Ginger smiled. "Messiah, right? Jewish Messiah?"

"Not according to my husband and our girls, they're still waiting, but..." Karen shrugged.

"I rather veer to the pagan side myself..." Steve, nodding with relief and chaffing his leg as Gilligan cut through and released him, helping him take a seat after passing Karen a driftwood stick for support. "Though Zoroastrianism is intriguing."

"As a neo-Marxist since I left the cult...Naturally I'm an atheist." Karen shrugged. "But whatever opium you choose that makes life bearable..."

"See that's the whole root of the problem...You don't accept the influence of individuals in History..." Ginger shook head. "Now we Social Democrats..."

"Sellouts to Capitalism..." Karen sneered.

"We're not totalitarian elites with no respect for democracy or human freedom and no real concern for the average person!" Ginger glared. "You might as well turn Nazi and it explains why so many of you did!"

"I tend to vote the National, but sometimes Labour or Green...I'm open to ideas." Steve noted.

Mary staring…

"I'm a Catholic...And a Democrat." Gilligan noted.

Though my true God is Power...He reflected.

…

Crash of surf, light breeze blowing...Beautiful, pristine ribbon of white sand beneath their feet, the Professor and Lovely Crumpt, she wearing large hat to cover from the strong sun...And a Skipper-rationed amount of the Minnow's limited supply of sunscreen, strolled along…

The Professor, a bit to Lovely's dismay, lost in deep thought.

"If you want the honest truth..." he recalled the voice of his oncologist back home, three months previous…

"I'd say a year, maybe two...But treatment could succeed, though it's advanced, I won't lie to you, Roy. Let me know your decision as soon as possible."

"Thanks, doctor...I'll talk things over with my wife." sigh.

"Don't worry, doctor. Roy and I will fight this, together..." his tall and lovely blonde wife, Skylar, patting Hinkle's arm as they sat...

Frowning at him as the doctor turned to remove x-ray and CAT/MRI scans from light bar.

Moron…If you expect me to waste the rest of my life scrimping and saving...She indicated for him to fetch her clearly dearly expensive fur coat draped on chair...

...

That evening…

The Hinkles moving slowly around their living room greeting various guests…

Hit the Schwartzs up before they go, you idiot...Skylar hissed to him, smiling over at her lovely if somewhat manically nervous sister and sister's husband, a large, hefty balding man seated on sofa.

"I'm not begging for my life..." Hinkle hissed back.

"Then beg for mine...You owe me." Skylar glared. "Hey, hi..." she beamed at a couple rising to greet them, both professors from Roy's small college. "Thank you so much for coming..."

"Happy birthday, Roy." the man nodded, smiling wanly. "God bless you, Roy...You're in our prayers." the woman, earnestly, patting his arm. He awkwardly nodding with smile..."Thanks."

"What the hell do I owe you?" Roy, harsh whisper. "I sold out at Greying Stuff years ago to buy you this house when you whined I didn't love you as much as Gretchen...I've spent nearly everything I could make on you...Except for Roy Jr's needs..."

"You coulda told me the company would be worth two billion in a few years… Hey, guys!" beam to another couple as her sister and brother-in-law came to them.

"Hey, Roy-boy!" the brother-in-law pounded him on back...Roy nearly keeling over. "Oh, sorry, there, buddy...Didn't think. None of those cancer-weakened rib bones cracked?"

"No, Hank." Hinkle, coughing a moment.

"Hank...Sorry, Roy." the sister-in-law sighed.

"It's ok, Marie..." Hinkle nodded. "I'm fine."

"You bet he is...And we're gonna keep him that way. Excuse us, just a mo? We need to say goodbye to a few folks." Skylar pulled him away.

"Greedy, grasping bitch...I tell you she'll have Roy making meth for money next...No matter how sick the poor bastard gets." Hank noted to his wife.

"She was always that way...I should have warned Roy when she did her all 'sweetness and light' routine but you were the only guy who ever really listened." Marie sighed.

"Listen...I have given you the best years of my life and you have given me nothing..." Skylar hissed as she led Roy into a hallway to the family room where more guests were concentrated, including Roy's old roommate-lover and her husband, his former business partner, Gretchen and Elliot Schwartz.

"I've given you the freedom not to work, except at what volunteer things you wanted, for ten years, a decent home, all on a reasonable if modest salary plus what consulting I could do." he eyed her.

"I coulda had billions..." she fumed.

"Or it could've crashed and burned..." he noted. "Anyway, that's that...I'm out."

"If you had tole me...But at least you could get them to do right by us...You...Now. And maybe they could save your life after making sure I was all set."

"And our boy...Roy, Jr."

"Yeah, yeah...He's fine in that facility we sent him to. But they could cover him as well till he's off our hands by grace of God."

"I wanted Roy at home, with us. If we ever had enough to pay for care for him..."

"Then...Get...It...And just keep him outta my sight. God, I hate sickness. Crumpt'll take care of the sick once and for all, God willing, once he's elected." she noted.

"I'm not begging Elliot Schwartz for money...Not even for Roy Jr."

"Eh...Get him to give you a job at some ridiculous salary plus a lump sum for what you threw away like a fool! Do it or I divorce you. I'm not spending what's left of my life trying to keep you alive. Unless you want to try that option that young student of yours suggested...That could have potential."

"I am not going into the Meth business, Skylar!"

"What's that?" Hank's voice behind, they turning to see him and Marie just coming up to them.

"Thought we'd come along, we'll have to be on our way soon." Marie noted.

"Oh...I was just suggesting Roy take you up on coming along on one of your busts of Methlab types." Skylar noted. "After all, you only live once, right...And life is short." beaming smile.

"Yeah, well, anytime you got the guts." Hank nodded to Roy.

Yeah...If you got the guts, wuss. Skylar's look to Hinkle.

"Skylar and I have decided to get a divorce...It's the best thing for her and Roy Jr, regards my medical costs. Though of course I'll be covering Roy Jr's costs as best I can." Hinkle said, calmly. She giving him a narrow-eyed, raging look.

"Professor?" Mrs. Crumpt eyed him…

Hmmn? "Oh, yes. I'd say there's sure to be fresh water back in..." they both eyed the chicken running across a stretch of beach to their side and back into the woods.

…


	7. Chapter 7

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part VII…

Below deck, the Skipper pulling out and carrying several boxes up to the deck in several trips, briefly eyeing Crumpt snoring on bunk running against side wall.

Would be nice to finish the job now, quick...But it would mean not only having to eliminate the potential witnesses but he could never return to a rather comfortable semi-retirement as Jonas Grumbie, retired naval officer completely unaware of his other pursuit in that semi-retirement, top CIA "cleanser". Indeed Gill(igan) probably had orders to extreme prejudice him should the mission go south in that way. No, best for all parties to follow the mission parameters, much as it might burn one not only to see this pos living and breathing, but to know in almost any scenario, he'd be escaping the just punishment fit for him...Instead of full and public disgrace, followed by a public trial and execution, just a quick, easy kill with his treasonous acts revealed only under top secret conditions to a select committee of Congress and the Chief Justice, with full release to the public likely only in stages over the years. Though at least his ally, Putinsky had not, some comfort.

Nah, for now, I'm just the good ole Skipper, making a proper survey and inventory of what we've got on board.

Enjoy yourself, you worthless stinking traitor, he nodded to the sleeping Crumpt.

…

"A 'Buffy' sequel, how charming...And what a pity it did not see light of day. Eh, Amelia?" Dr. Balinkoff eyed the various screens in his office displaying views of the Isle, including that featuring Gilligan, Ms. Grant, Ms. Wholesomeby, Steve, and Karen… Amelia Donovan in her stewardess uniform staring at screens...Clucking worriedly and thrusting head at several.

"Bck, bck, bck, bck, bck..."

"Yes...Well, thank you dear. You can take this tray...Amelia? Take...Tray..." he offered the tray on his desk on which were remnants of his just-finished breakfast to her, she taking it with quick grab.

"Careful, dear...Take tray...To kitchen..." he waved her off. "Bck, bck, bck, bck." she noted, heading off with jerky stilted movements.

Hmmn...Well, if Igor fails we can try speech therapy next month after all is complete...Or, perhaps, he pondered.

Ruth Bader Ginsberg really could use a replacement host, if either we get Hillary and a decent Supreme Court appointee to replace Scalia or I succeed, take over the world, and can impose my will by fiat.

Morally she would object, I suppose but when I have ever let morality interfere with what I alone conceive of as the world's greater good?...Mah, hah, ha…

Oh, come on...Saving RBG for another sixty years has to be somewhat to the greater good…Whether you consider me mad or no. And I still say scientist yes, mad no.

A buzzer on desk phone catching his attention now.

"Yes, Balinkoff here..."

"Sir, this is Launch Control requesting your clearance on security." a man's voice on speaker. "I'm informed by Security that the intruders are determined as no threat to the launch? Is that confirmed? I understand surveillance is reduced to monitoring and radar as well?"

"Yes, my boy...Jess was quite right. It's confirmed. I see no serious threat by the intruders that video surveillance and radar cannot handle right now. You have full clearance, Owen. If the intruders make effort to penetrate to the volcano site, I will have Security take action. All is proceeding well, I trust?"

"Yes, sir, just checking, sir. Launch Control, out." cut to shot of Owen O'Connor, former flight attendant of the same doomed flight on which Steve and Karen and his own wife, Jess Kato O'Connor had flown. Now in crisp shirt with Jess-made sweater vest, headset microphone at his lips...Standing at computer console in large, NASA-style, control room with large banks of consoles, technicians and controllers at various monitors.

"All right, we have a confirmation on security...Go for launch on schedule in two days!" he spoke into mike. The team of various male and female, mostly elderly, technicians and controllers, offering cheers and fists in air. At the front of the room, on vast screen, the image of a large space shuttle system, technicians swarming over her.

A few both working on the spaceship on its pad and at several consoles at Launch Control, would-be recognizable to Karen and Steve if they'd been present, though only in physical appearance.

…

"We'd never have been cancelled before even the pilot went on, if you hadn't forced me to walk out on the show!" Grant fumed.

"I fired you!" Karen, leaning on driftwood stick, shaking head.

"Only after I walked!"

"Do the words 'Grant, get your sorry ass off my set, you're canned' stir a memory?" Karen, sarcastically.

"No one had the power to remove me but the producer…!" Ginger insisted. "You do remember the fine print on my contract, read in the studio lawyer's office?"

"And he did! Even the Mouse backed me!"

"And the next day, they canceled the show!" Ginger noted.

"Thanks to the legal carnage you promised to inflict!"

"But Karen..." Steve interrupted. "Didn't you say your last job was as a statistical analyst for Bing?"

"It paid more than community theater, Steve." Karen frowned.

"Which is all you could get after that debacle." Ginger sneered.

All startled to see Karen weeping…

"It's true...All I wanted to do was tell a great romantic story, my way..." she sobbed on Gilligan's shoulder.

"We could have told it, if you'd made it a collaboration..." Ginger insisted, a bit less rankor.

"Collaboration? Bah...Touchy-feely crap that is the reason we lack female directors of stature. A true director must rule over her cast and crew, like the captain of a ship!"

"Oh, please, Erica von Stroheim..." grim stare, sneer.

"He got results!"

"He blew 'Queen Kelly' all to hell! And 'Greed' nearly died on the cutting room floor of obesity and bloat!" Ginger, angrily.

Wow, quite the film scholar/actress, Gill(igan) thought.

Really hope I don't have to terminate her. At least not before we get to talk movies...Ole vs New Hollywood...The pressures today on female actors (my niece is really keen on becoming one)...And I can get her autograph.

"Can't we stop this fighting?" Mary sighed. "We haven't even asked these people if there's civilization or food and water about."

"I'd say, given us, it's pretty clear there's no civilization about here, girlie." Karen eyed her.

"So that means…?" Steve eyed the newcomers. "You're Lost or Wrecked two...I mean, too?" (Eyes us archly...)

…

"Hmmn...Palm trees..." the Professor pointed. 

"Lovely." Lovely noted. Hope this means he's getting a little...

"No, I mean...Coconuts. We have a food source and a source of liquid nourishment. Hopefully not the sole but a start." he smiled.

"Oh, yes...Lovely." nod.

Sigh…

"So Mr. Crumpt was feeling a little better when you left him?"

"I certainly would..." she began. "Oh…? Yeah, I suppose so. Drugging him into a stupor always makes him a bit more bearable. But...Made bed, lie in...My mantra." shrug.

"A horrible way to live, if I may be so bold..." Hinkle eyed her.

Oh, yes...Be bold…She thought, longingly.

"Though it's not my business..." he shook head. "Look." he pointed. "Those cliffs have a lot of mist rising there, I'd bet those are waterfalls...Fresh water."

"Wonderful."

She regarded him as he began coughing steadily, hacking at end…

"Are you all right, Professor?"

"The salt air, I think..." heavy coughs… "Irritates my throat. Just a moment." he leaned down, hacking…

"Oh, my. We'd better return to the ship..." Lovely urged.

"No, no...I'm fine." he put up a hand.

"There..." he stood, gasping just a bit for a moment. "Just a little irritation."

"I say that all the time about Fred..." she gave wan grin. "But, like your coughing, obviously is a big irritation."

"I'll be fine."

"Nothing that jumping in sea or from cliff to rocks can't cure, eh?" she regarded him. "Professor, I have had best therapy in US money can buy, I know a suicidal type when I sees..."

"That's hardly..." he frowned. "Excuse me but it's really none of your business..."

"I know." she nodded. "But we are stuck here and you are essential male if we are to survive. Which oddly enough I almost feel I might like to do."

"I'm sorry."

"I won't mention, you are right, not my business really."

"I mean that you feel that way...And that I can see why. Even if you made your own bed. Oh, there they are!" he looked ahead to see Gilligan with the group.

"Looks like they've found other people..." he stared.

"Who do not look like they have anything to get us off this island." she noted, peering. "Perhaps, Professor Hinkle, we could talk later...About our business which is so exclusive? Till then, I will say nothing. It would mean much to me to have one to talk too in this."

"Yes, if you like." nod. "I think it would mean much to me too." faint smile.

"Holy Jesus!" Lovely peered again. "Steven Rutherford? Oh, my! Steven! Steven!" she raced off, leaving Hinkle staring after her.

Well...He peered down the beach.

I suppose I can put the "if things were different" speech on hold.

"Steven! Steeeveeen!" Lovely cried, running with lengthening strides.

"Lovely Crumpt?" Steve stared down the beach…

Ginger, Gilligan, Mary...He knows…?

Hmmn...Karen stared. The Lovely Crumpt? The (yeah, right with his recent bankruptcies…) "billionaire"'s wife? The one Steve used to talk about and I thought he was just fantasizing for sexual purposes…?

Not that I have any right outside a vague claim as sort of common-law wife the past few years.

And if this is thereby hope of rescue, I was ready to cut this off the moment I could get hold of some way to reach my honey and the girls.

I mean, my guy would be as jealous and possessive as a girl could want under normal circumstances but in this case...(Memory binge of four seasons of "Wrecked"…) He'd understand so long as I cut Steve out of my life like a benign but concerning tumor before I returned to him. As will I, understandingwise, after I bury whomever in a shallow grave…

Probably that slut Alison Hendrix…Everyone in Bailey Park knows she slept with Chad Norris in her van in the hockey rink parking lot just before I flew out of Toronto.

Not that I don't have faith in my teddy bear, but it has been four years and I could be declared legally dead and he remarried after a long and suitable mourning period.

I suppose it will be tough on the girls to have lost two mothers in five years...But hey, true mommy being back from the dead...And the other disappearing without a trace, likely just heartlessly run off...Better put her in that quarry near Toronto...Should balance out.

Though, if this isn't hope of rescue...I'm watchin' you with my Stevie, bimbo. As Lovely leaped to embrace the somewhat tottering Steve, they collapsing in a heap on the beach…

"Steven, Steven..." Lovely kissing him.

Whoa...Ginger, Mary…

Oh, that's nice, Gill(igan) nodded. She'll have someone...I guess.

...


	8. Chapter 8

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part VIII…

The Professor, Ginger, Mary, Gill(igan), Karen all watched Steve Rutherford and Lovely Crumpt roll about on the sandy ground for a good ten seconds…

Goodness…Dr. Balinkoff, watching screen in his underground office.

"Steve?" Jess, in her grey uniform, watching a bank of monitors in her security office, Steve and Lovely rolling about the ground on #4. Too surprised to note the chicken passing by the camera to monitor #5, pecking at the ground as it moved along. Frowning at another monitor...Oh, boy…

"Dr. Balinkoff? Jess here." she held phone…

"Oh, Steve…Steve!" Lovely hugging and kissing him…

"Oh…Ow!" Steve, feeling injured leg…

"Ohmigod…" Ginger staring. "Hey, guys!"

"Uh…Mrs. Crompt?" the Professor called, gently.

Karen, watching grimly, arms folded.

On the one hand, nice to know Steve really did have someone besides the wife who divorced him and may not be alone when I abandon him to return home…On the other…Kill, kill, kill…She thought. And kill, kill, kill some more…

What can I say? Love's an irrational tidal wave in a passionate statistician like me. In an hour I'm sure to be suicidal thinking about how I've betrayed my husband, then irrational with rage suspecting him.

And that slut Alison…I know it's her.

Anyway, right now? Kill, kill, kill…Still, if I do have to abandon him, it would ease my heart. Which would, yes, probably get suicidal with guilt over hurting him.

What do you mean I don't seem the type? Eyeing us, annoyed.

The raw passion's written all over my face.

"Steven…" grim tone.

"Steve…Oh…" Lovely was calming. "So good to see you again." She pulled away. "How is your lovely wife?"

The others staring as Steve tried to pull himself together, groaning…

"Oh, Steven, have I hurt you? I'm sorry. Let me help you up." Lovely offering an arm to him…Gilligan coming over to assist as well. "Here, you can take my arm, too. Upsi-daisy…" they lifted him to his feet.

"It is just so good to see you…I had heard you were dead in plane crash." Lovely, fondly. As Gilligan passed Steven back his crutch stick.

And figured my worthless, vindictive husband must have had something to do with it…She did not say.

"Great to see you too, Lovely. As per the missus…" Steve sighed. "Things didn't continue as I would have liked."

"But then he met me." Karen cut in. "Hi, Karen Cushman, Steven's significant other and mistress for the past four years." She offered hand.

"Oh…Hello. Lovely Szo…er, Crumpt." Lovely slight sigh, then smile, shaking hand. "It's nice to know Steven has someone. He is best."

"Yeah…" Karen, cool smile. "So, welcome to the Isle. How do you know Steve?"

As in physically? Spiritually? He saved your kid from bears? You like to discuss history and science online as FB friends? Though you're making a rather fervent display for FBers, I know sometimes those group relationships really get intense. Met two lovers and the Leader of my cult that way.

"He was kindest junior manager of Crompt Palace Hotel in Spolt, Slobovia, my old home, when I worked as maid in hotel." Lovely smiled.

"Assistant Manager, actually…" Steve noted.

"Such a kind boss…" Lovely beamed.

"Oh, so you never carried on with him…" Karen nodded.

"No, we never have the fucked." Lovely noted. "Though, to be honest…" sly smile. "But he was much too good boss to cross such lines."

"Well…It was policy and morally wrong." Steve shrugged, struggling with stick crutch to a flat bolder and sitting with sigh of relief.

"And you were married…" Karen pointed out, a bit sternly. Mary staring…Oh…My.

Just like Reverend Lovejoy back home…And Uncle Steve.

Though to be fair Uncle Steve had found out Aunt Theresa was his cousin…

Which, if one considers either Godless Science or the Bible, was probably the cause of cousin…Damien.

I never really bought Daddy's suggestion that a jackal had mated with Auntie to issue forth that snot-nosed, nasty little…

The others eyeing each other…

A bit awkward when you don't know either the people you were initially shipwrecked with nor the castaways you bump into…

Though it does seem this "Karen" feels a claim on that "Steve" guy…Interesting, I guess…Ginger thought.

But right now, seeking out a private place to pee is more to the point…And maybe quizzing these weirdos as to what they might know about the island?

Though given the rags on them, probably they don't know of a good laundromat around here, ruefully eyeing her wrinkled and sea-salt spotted gown.

"Oh, not then." Lovely shook head. "Neither of us…Though it was how I mets Fred, through Steven, sort of."

"Just friends…Ok…" Karen nodded.

"So you worked for Fred Crompt…In Slobovia?" Ginger eyed Steve, intrigued in spite of herself and her urgent need to pee…And desire not to be googled at by strangers wanting to see if movie stars and actors did anything "differently".

Or to see if she was really a dude…

"You work in the leisure industry you go where they send you, much like the military…" Steve shrugged.

"Of course knowing Steve is how I met Crompt…Fred." Lovely, sighing a bit. "He was touring Crompt Palace with Trump to see if they could partner and get Russian mob to use failing hotel/casino as tax write-off and bail both out from disaster. They sees me with Steven one evening and orders Steven to procure them women, starting with me. Steven…Says no…He is not that sort. Fred does…What Fred does. But instead of firing, he threatens…He thinks Steve is just wimp, he can take…He says to me he will beat Steve up to prove his superior German genes, trump says he will then beat Steve more to prove his most superior German genes. Steve knocked Fred down, one punch. Trump runs for security screaming he has bone spurs…" sigh.

"Long and short was I dated Fred to keep him from having Steve arrested by corrupt Splot policia who really enjoy killing Muslim Slobovians and foreigners like Steven who object to killing. Steven saved 200 Slobovian Muslims in hotel once, during third Slobovian civil war, did he say?" Lovely eyed Karen, then the others.

"No, he did not…" Karen frowned.

"Sorry, we didn't know the guy long enough to really get into that…" Gilligan noted, Ginger and Mary nodding.

Oh, yes…Him. Gill(igan) reflected, eyeing Steve carefully. I remember I recorded his testimony over a secure phone line with several others in Splot after we helped NATO rescue those folks, before the International Tribunal conducted the war crimes trial. We never did meet directly but a true hero as those morality boys call it. Still, I was glad to help jail the murdering bastards.

Hey, I don't just kill mindlessly. Everyone I hit, as you'll see, really does deserve to be hit. We're the good guys, sort of.

"Well…I never really understood what was going on until some CIA/International Tribunal fellow requested my testimony over the phone one evening in the hotel after some NATO boys got the people out …" Steve noted. "I thought they were a religious convention being hounded by the bureaucracy…Until the soldiers started shooting at us and then I thought, oh, for Heavens sake not another civil war, this is the third one…And thinking they weren't shooting at us per se but just bad shots, like Imperial storm troopers, I had everyone hide inside till NATO arrived."

"Wait…" Ginger stared at Lovely. "You married Crompt to save this guy from corrupt cops? The way Ava Gardner gave up Mickey Rooney so Frank wouldn't have the mob kill him?"

"Uh, well…No. I dated Fred so he's would not let corrupt cops kill Steve." Lovely noted. "Afterwards, my family needed to flee civil war…We had some Muslim and Jewish in-laws, sos I needed fast entry to US for family as refugees. Fred needed new trophy wife. Plus he seems to have lots of money and my father watched him on TV and thought he was great businessman. My father is terrible businessman, very poor politician…Thought Hitler a good man, great leader misunderstood, though he is half-Jewish. He arranged marriage, I says yeah, why not." Deep sigh.

"Made bed, lie." Eyeing the Professor who gave her a wan smile.

"Say could you come with me while I find a place to pee. I gotta go somethin' awful." Ginger hissed to the Professor. "I don't really wanna do it here and that jungle doesn't look all that safe."

"Of course…" the Professor nodded.

"Ms. Grant needs to pee, I'm taking her." He announced to her chagrin…And grim eye roll…

Well, that answers that...He thought. Don't want to be unfair or unkind, miss but a dying man needs someone who isn't worried about what everyone is thinking when he wants to talk about real matters not socially acceptable crap or when he messes his pants in public because he can't control his bowels any longer. I'm sure you'll find someone who'll not embarrass you with his awkward interest in esoteric subjects or disturb one of your society parties by dying in his own living room instead of a lonely hospital room.

"Make for the clearing about one hundred feet that way…" Steve pointed. "There's a latrine of sorts I dug with sea shells you're very welcome to use."

I dug…Karen mouthed to Ginger.

"Mind the rats and fleas…" Steve urged.

"Say, maybe we ought to do something about Todd?" Karen turned to Steve. "He should be ok but we don't want leave him back at the shelter in his coma forever."

…

The tall Briton who'd landed at the opposite shore, near the extinct but somehow now active, volcano, stared about as he regarded what appeared to be an abandoned native village...Huts around a center square. Some evidence it had been inhabited, even recently judging by the remains of charcoal in what looked like a fire pit for communal cooking but…Odd…

Can't place the particular tribe by the clothing or tools still left behind and while they look authentic enough…They don't look like items worn by daily continuous use.

Almost, as if…They were on display.

Hmmn…He stood in what seemed to be a village square, in khaki shorts and open khaki shirt, scanning the mountain before him with binoculars…Steam or smoke rising from what must be the old crater at top.

Active all right, in its way…

He tensed, sensing…

"Ko wai koe…Ko wai koe!" a voice called to him. He looked over to see a figure in a hut door. A rather lovely looking figure…Small and slender, with long, silky black hair, in a colorful sarong.

"Who am I?" 009 smiled, eyeing her. "A friend…He hoa. British."

"You…British? You have boat?" the woman asked, keeping inside the hut.

"You speak English." He nodded shrewdly. "Good. Yes, I have a boat…And friends. Where are the people?"

"Haere ratou. Tuku. He kino tenei wahi, e wehi katoa. ^ This is bad place, they go. Afraid." She finished in English, stepping out of the hut carefully.

Interesting accent…The language is basically Maori but… He pondered.

"He aha i mataku ratou? ^ Kaia. Why were they afraid?"

"The fire god is alive again. Angry." She pointed to the volcano's ancient crater from which steam rose.

"Yes, I see." He nodded. "Ko etahi i haere mai na te mea i wehi ratou i te riri o te atua? And the others left because they feared the god's wrath?"

"Yes, feared. They leave me. I was sick. They blame god. Me cursed."

"I doubt that. You seem well now." He noted with smile.

Yes, very well indeed.

"Better now. But can't go. You have boat?" anxious tone.

"I do. I can take you away from here." He nodded. "But first I need your help…" warm smile.

Frown from the girl…

"I no whore." She insisted.

"No, nothing like that. My dear…I'm a gentleman." The man shook head.

And I certainly never pay…He thought.

Now 008… "Honey-trap Sid"? He's lucky 007 and I testified to his usefulness again last month.

Standards slip, what can one say?

"Hey." She interrupted. "How help? I want to go, quick. The god is angry, make me sick again."

"Hardly a god, my dear." The man smiled. "And I will take you away from here. But first I must climb the mountain and see the home of the fire god. Ka tangohia atu koutou e ahau i konei. Engari ko te tuatahi me eke ahau ki te maunga ka kite i te kainga o te atua ahi…"

The girl frowned…Shaking head...Silken hair tossing.

"Bad. We go. We go now!" she urged.

"Now, now. I'll protect you, dear." He insisted. "Ka tiakina koe e au, e tiimata. You have nothing to fear with me here."

She eyed him as he smiled.

"Why go there?" she asked. "I been there. There is only fire god and smoke. You burn."

"It's my Duty." He sighed. "My Queen and country want to know the god better. And I can protect myself…And you, tool"

"The Queen?" she asked. "Elizabeth Queen?"

"Yes, indeed...Elizabeth. It's very important to her. Can you help me? Could you guide me to the top?"

"I no go there. Bad. We go." She insisted.

"Just for a short time, to see. You don't have to go all the way, just show me the trail. Then my Queen will be pleased and we can go."

"Then we go?" she asked, considering. "To where?"

"Where did your people go?" he asked.

"Across water, sail." She indicated a boat moving with her hands.

"But what island?"

"They follow moon…Karsu know way." She shook head. "I want go to England. See Queen. You take Nauri?"

"Nauri? That's beautiful. Yes, Nauri." He nodded. "I'll take you to England."

New Zealand should pass well enough…He thought.

God knows I wouldn't want M to catch me with her. Nor my wife."

"Ok. You promise? And I no go all way?"

"I promise, Nauri, just take me to the trail up and we can leave for England at once. My Queen is eager for the results."

"Ok. Tomorrow in morning come here." Nauri nodded.

Oh…I rather thought…He eyed her.

She eyeing him.

Right…No whore.

And should find out what exactly she was ill with. Don't forget poor ole 006.

...


	9. Chapter 9

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part IX…

"I think it was this way..." The Professor noted as he and Ginger moved down the trail of sorts, mostly just matted grasses by repeated traverses, to Steve's, or rather Karen's, latrine.

"Lovely..." she sighed. "I think I might be better off just finding my own spot out here."

"We'll need to see if it's sanitary enough for at least nine people. And that latrine could include running water..." the Professor pointed out. "We'll need a source of fresh water soon."

"Fine...Lets explore." she grimaced, then eyed him as they resumed walking.

"You don't think much of me, do you, Professor?" Ginger asked, suddenly. "I don't mean because we don't know each other outside being nearly drowned together the last three days..." wan smile as the Professor pushed branches back from some trees to clear the way for her. She eyeing him carefully as he stood, stooping slightly for some low branches.

A good-looking man in fine shape for a fortyish professor but...Something's wrong…

Too pale, too exhausted…

Too uninterested...Well, lets not let ego get in the way, here, Grant.

But something's wrong with him...Both physically and spiritually, he's exhausted...But in a hurry. A man too impatient from that exhaustion to waste time with a silly fool…

Like me.

"I don't really think about you, Miss Grant."

"No, I suppose you don't." wan smile. "Which in itself is a surprise for me...But when you do, you don't think very well of me."

"No. I believe in being honest, miss. No, I don't think very well of you. Sorry, it may be unfair."

"Maybe, maybe not. But may I ask why?"

"Certainly. May I first ask, what led you to think that I didn't think well of you?"

Ginger, sly smile. "I'm an actress and not quite as dumb as I look...I actually do have a degree in psychology. You didn't care for me on the boat, during the trip or the storm...Understandable, I was whining from the get-go like a true movie star and I only get worse when scared to death, of death. And you were testing me back there, just now. I saw it in your look. When you told everyone I had to pee, you were testing my reaction. I failed that test, didn't I?"

"Perhaps...Sorry. To be frank, I felt the need to evaluate all the people here, since we're likely to be castaways here for a while."

"Gilligan passed..." she smiled. "You didn't even object when the Skipper sent him out alone."

"He's young and perhaps a bit clumsy, but he was quite the hero during the storms. Though I get the feeling he's far more capable than he allows himself. But, yes, he passed."

"I agree...An impressive kid in his way. More there than meets the eye. Now of course the Skipper passed."

"Unquestionably. He had no way to know that storm was coming and he took all the right actions. His knowledge of these waters and his ship handling through the shoals saved our lives." nod.

"I won't bother with Fred Crumpt..." smile, returned. "Our religious freak, Mary? She passed, didn't she?"

"She's obsessed and been indoctrinated all her life but she's been practical and adaptable. She has survival skills that are useful. We could do worse and I think she's capable of improving over time, away from her environs. This way… I believe I see the clearing that fellow mentioned." 

"Too soon to judge them but they must have something to have survived here..." she noted.

"They show classic PTSD and even a loss of some mental facility from their isolation and stress but yes, they must have something. Can't say as to my full opinion on them yet."

"Leaving only me...The F grade." sheepish grin. "Say, there's your flowing water...At least Steve dug the thing in the right place."

"I'm sorry to have given you that impression...I tend to be judgmental...Nature of my job to evaluate my fellow men and women quickly." he noted, turning to view the small brook. "Upstream we should be able to get clean water..."

"Judgmental...Especially of women...Are you married, Professor?" she eyed him. "I see a ring mark..." she indicated his ring finger.

"I am. But that's over." he shrugged.

"She failed too, eh?"

"A mutual failure...Ms. Grant, there being a stream, I should check it out. And you should attend to what you came here for." he coughed a bit, hacking at end.

"You all right?" she asked as he put up a hand.

"Fine. Allergies, I'd say. There is a lot of vegetation here. Will you be all right here if I take a quick walk to see the stream further up and take some samples?"

"Sure...I'm a big girl. I can pee all on my own." she nodded. "Don't go too far...The Skipper said we shouldn't not knowing what's here."

"It's a small island...I doubt there's much in the way of predators. But I'll be careful." he nodded and walked upstream, eyeing the brook carefully.

"I was being nice!" she called to him, suddenly. He turning back to her. "Not rating Lovely Crumpt." smile.

Igor, halted, waiting under cover of dense brush, a bit further back in the jungle, trying to view and listen without noise…

"Amanda..." he gasped in faint whisper as the chicken host came close, pecking at the crumbs he'd dropped.

"Here, honey...I'll take you..." he made a slight wave of hand to summon.

The chicken looked up, gave a sort of gasp, and ran off, clucking…

"Professor!" Ginger, gingerly squatting on some fresh leaves she'd pulled to the first hole in the smoothed log of Steve's latrine, she rising in some alarm. "What was that?! Did you hear?!"

"Yes!" he called, waving from an opening in the brush. "I believe it was a chicken."

"A chicken? As in fresh meat?" she called.

Igor, eyes bulging…

No…

"Even better...If it's a domesticated breed...And it must be to be on this island...There are or were once natives here." he called, advancing toward her, now about a hundred feet away.

"Just a sec, please!" she called.

"Oh, right...Sorry." his reply, he turning away.

…

"I hope Miss Grant and Professor Hinkle are all right..." Mary, anxiously looking into the jungle. "We should be heading back to the boat."

Boat? Steve and Karen exchanged glances…

"It's kinda damaged, I'm afraid." Gilligan noted, seeing the exchange.

"Our f-ing luck." Karen sighed.

"I don't suppose you folks have a radio?" Steve asked.

"A transmitter but it was damaged. The Professor, the guy who took Ms. Grant to...uh..." Slight awkwardness…

Sincere too, Gill(igan) thought. I really haven't seen many women on the toilet. Strangled, shot, knifed, poisoned, blown up, pushed out a glass window to fall to their deaths, thrown into the evil dude's shark tank, shredded in Hussein's special shredder, fed to dogs...Some of the above not a few times by yours truly in the course of Duty, yes.

"Pee or shit." Karen noted. "So, you got a transmitter and of course, natch, it's broken. I don't suppose you used it before winding up here?"

"We tried...Couldn't make contact." Gilligan shrugged.

"Oh, Lord..." Steve sighed. "Is this nightmare ever to end?"

"There was a time when you wanted to stay, on that first island." Karen pointed out.

"I was crazed and depressed. It was before I became a hero by killing that Nazi fellow." he noted. "Well, at least you have a boat. Any...Food, as in not roots, half-cooked fish, coconuts, monkeys?"

"Monkeys." Karen nodded to Mary's stare. "Believe me, kid we've had worse...Much worse."

"Oh, Lord." Mary put hands to face.

"We have some food. And the boat still gives us some hope of fixing it..."

"Really?" Steve blinked. "I could help. We've done a lot of jury-rigging and fixer-uper over the years."

I did...Karen mouthed. Me, the jury-rigging fixer-upper.

"I know the Skipper'd appreciate the help." Gilligan nodded.

Following on the completion of our mission, not a moment before...He thought.

"This boat..." Karen, suddenly eager. "No chance of a bed…? A shower…?"

"It's just a tank shower but yeah. And you'd be welcome to sleep aboard, though we only have two real beds." Gilligan noted.

"Oh, God...A shower..." Karen gasped.

"Isn't there a waterfall that way, up the mountain path? The Professor wanted to check it out." Gilligan eyed her.

"You can't get to it...The climb's too steep." Karen shook head. "The water's wonderful in the pool below but I miss a shower...The water fiercely beatingon my body...My skin tingling...The blood thudding in my veins...The steam caressing me..."

Oh, yes...Steve, staring…

"The dirt blasted off, every pore opened to hot steam..." Karen moaned.

"It's just a tank shower...Not much pressure." Gilligan noted.

"Good enough." Karen nodded. "Lets go."

"Oh, yes!" Steve agreed.

"But ve must await Professor Hinkle and Miss Grant..." Mrs. Crumpt noted.

"Eh, kill or be killed…" Karen growled.

Karen...K...aren...Steve eyed her as the others stared.

We want these people to like us…

"Sorry, she's a bit stressed." Steve noted. "We've had to do a lot to survive."

"Yeah..." Karen, shaking head. "Sorry...But getting back to the shower, bed, food?"

"Soon as the Professor and Miss Grant get back, we'll head back." Gilligan assured her.

"Great." nod.

"But what about your friend…?" Mary asked, suddenly. "The one in the coma?"

"Todd?" Steve looked over at her. "Eh, he's been in a coma practically since we came here, one day or night more of it can't hurt him now."

…

"There...Full..." the Professor noted, lifting the canteen the Skipper had provided.

"You think it's ok to drink?" Ginger asked, eyeing canteen.

"Probably but I want to test it first while we have a good bit of our own supply left. One never knows till you test..." wry smile. "That Steve may have dug more than one latrine."

She grinned…

Well, maybe a little hope of Humanity there after all…

"Sure..." she nodded. "Can we go back, now?"

"Just let me get a few of those herbs there..." he pointed. "And one of the coconuts on the ground...I just want to be sure they're fully edible."

"Right...And dessert for tonight if it is. Wish we could grab that chicken." she smiled.

"Where there's one, there may be more." he noted. "And, as I say..."

"Natives..." Ginger nodded.

"Right. That'll have to be our next order of business. Though..."

"Strange our new friends haven't met them, having been here a while." she finished.

"Not total clueless and worried more about breaking nails, Professor..." smile.

"Pass...Based on the make up exam." he nodded, smiling.

...


	10. Chapter 10

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part X…

"Hey, Grumbie!" bellow from below. "Grumbie?! Where the fuck are you?!"

"Busy Mr. Crumpt, what is it?" Jonas called down. Pausing in his inventory and log-writing.

"I want my lunch. A coupla of burgers, fries, a chocolate shake, chocolate cake. Get it down here!"

"We have some hamburger but none of the rest. It'll be one, when the others get here. There's water in the canteen by your bed if you're thirsty…"

"Fuck the 'others'. I want it now! Get it!"

"I'm busy and we eat when the others get back."

"Goddamn you, you're fired!"

"Whatever, pal."

Sounds of rummaging… "Hey, where's the burgers! There's just frozen meat here!"

"Has to be cooked, pal. Close that freezer now."

"MR. CRUMPT, asshole!"

"Not to me, pal. Put that stuff back and close the freezer, now."

"Gota hell!"

My fault for not putting a padlock on it, like the cooler, Grumbie sighs. Good thing Gill(igan) locked up all the other food in the main locker.

"If I have to interrupt my work and come down there to clean up, I'll have to tie you up, pal."

"The Hell you will! I punched out my eighty-five year old music teacher when I was twelve and I can take you, you piece of shit!"

"I hear she punched you out when you tried to slap her and your dad sent you to military school to keep you outta trouble." Chuckle. "But if you wanna see if I can still kick your head in…?"

Hey, self-defense, works for me…If I can just make it look like I didn't know how to kill a man with one blow…

It can be a problem when you're that good. Gill is better at concealing his ability, I gotta give the kid that.

"Shudup. I put the crap back. Get it cooked for me."

"When the others get here. Not before."

"Well, call em up and tell em to get back here!"

"No cell phone works, and we have no radios to hand out, pal. They'll be back when Gill(igan) and Professor Hinkle finish their survey. But they might have some good news for us."

"If they find the nearest city, I wanna copter or limo here to take me in."

"Sure, pal." Chuckle.

Gotta admit I love this clown's antics. Hope we can keep him alive for another day or two…

"Grumbie! I wanna a Coke, not this water crap!"

"Ok, you can have one in a few minutes. I'll have to unlock the cooler. We can't leave the power on and the ice'll melt if I…"

"Fuck all that! I wan it now!"

"Stick a sock in it, pal. I'll be down in a few."

Really, the guy's a riot. Chuckle, returning to his inventory…

…

"You found one of the chickens?" Steve eagerly asked the Professor.

"We saw it. So there are others?"

"A few…" Karen noted. "We've caught and eaten most. I guess the natives left them."

"Natives? Savage heathen? Or the lovable Disney kind?" Mary asked, fearfully.

Of course it would be a chance to bring the Light of the Lord upon their dark and ignorant faces…

But these people steal, when they don't rape you and kill you…And then insist it's your dad or uncle or cousin Henry in that fancy college who did the raping. Even though for good Republicans, getting some action is just the normal way of virile young men and middle-aged men…And some wealthy older men. So long as it's not a respectable white woman…Unless of course she's become a slut like those women who want choice and are on TV talking about their "rights".

"Who knows?" Karen shrugged. "There's some kind of village up the mountain slope and we found a few huts but no one's around. They all must've left a while back. Though the village is strange, man."

"Strange?" the Professor eyed her. "How so?"

"It looks fake." Steve shook head. "Like it's never been lived in."

"Potemkin village, CIA if you ask me." Karen noted.

Uh-huh…Ginger eyed the Professor… Mentally twirling finger.

"Well, we ought to check it out, can we get there before sunset?" the Professor asked.

"I doubt it, it's very rough climbing and nearly eight miles to the east, by my reckoning." Steve, shrewd look.

My reckoning…Karen mouthed.

"That is long way." Lovely sighed. "But if you wish, I will try." She eyed the Professor.

Ginger rolling eyes…Karen rolling eyes.

Mrs. Crumpt is a noble woman, just as Faux News says, though of course a worthless slut compared to Mrs. Trump. Oh, why do all the other media lie so? Mary sighed.

Though really…If that woman chooses to angle for a man not her own by trying to impress him with an eight mile climb up a mountainside today, after all we've been through…The bitch can go by herself, she exhaustedly thought.

Forgive me, Jesus and Sean Hannity.

Though it was Sean who did say he'd uncovered evidence on her that he'd release if her husband became a threat to the man he now favors as more American and godly.

"I dunno if we should try that today, Professor…" Gilligan shook head.

"No, I think we can save that for tomorrow. We should get our new friends back to the boat and assess what we've learned." The Professor agreed. "But I am worried about your friend, this Todd? Shouldn't we fetch him as well?"

"Drag him across the jungle, then down the beach?" Steve shrugged. "Sounds like a death sentence to me."

"He's been fine for weeks, one more night won't make a difference." Karen nodded.

"Oh, we mustn't leave a fellow…He is a Christian?" Mary eyed Karen and Steve. 

"I doubt it." Karen shrugged. "He kinda looked Jewish to me." Steve noted, shrewd look to Karen.

We done busted enough balls for Toddy to spend hours getting his drooling comatose body to our new home with shower.

"Well, even so…" Mary waved a hand. "I'll help move him, if you'll show me the way."

"We should all go." The Professor insisted. "It's a chance to assess what you have." He eyed Karen and Steve…

Our stuff…They want…Our stuff… Karen, sidelong glance to Steve.

All we got is some old monkey meat, a couple of knives, three straw mats, some old coconuts, and dirty laundry. Lots of that which we need to wash anyway. And the crazy bible freak looks like a good washer…Steve eyed her.

And of course…My assault rifle…Karen eyed him back.

Which long ago you fired off the last shot from…Steve, returning look.

"Fine. Lets go." Karen, resigned. "It's that way…" she pointed.

All looking to see a chicken racing across the worn jungle path she'd pointed out.

…


	11. Chapter 11

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XI…

"So this is Todd…Say 'hi', Todd." Steve lifted a hand of the comatose Todd, a tall, now rather skinny fellow with stubby beard, dressed in worn old jogging clothes, on his straw pallet and shook it to wave.

"He's been like this for months you say?" the Professor, bending over the unconscious Todd, opening one eye, then letting it close.

Get out of my space, man! Todd screaming inwardly.

"The poor soul…Even if not saved." Mary sighed, patting Todd's arm. The remaining others but for Gilligan, charged by the Professor to check what might be useful to take back to the Minnow, eyeing him…Ginger with sympathy changing shortly to recognition and disgust…

Todd? Todd Hinkle?

"Ever since we found him in the jungle after Jess came after us." Karen noted. "We tried all we could to revive him."

Or finish him, sorta. Live or die, ya know…Steve thought. Picturing the various methods…Encouragement, shaking, slapping, cursing, hitting on head with coconut mallet (it works on TV sitcoms I watched as a boy), water board…baths, throwing him in the water, throwing him in the water with a shark near, ice…And that climb was sheer hell, you know…Fish, stinking fish, badly rotted stinking fish in the mouth, dressing him up in Karen's remaining rather foul panties, yelling fire, fire in the face, fire on the arms, having Karen pretend to be his mom calling for him, me pretending to be his mom, calling for him, sticking him with bits of sharp rock or wood, sticking straw up his nose, threatening to pee on him, peeing on him…

Hey, it's a quality of life thing for the poor sot. And he's been quite a burden.

"How could he have survived, you've no IV apparatus?" the Professor frowned. "He's very thin but clearly he hasn't starved."

"I improvised a bamboo pole for a feeding tube…" Karen shrugged, holding up the tube at another straw pallet. "Tried to keep it clean with boiled water."

"Very good." The Professor nodded. "So he can take in some nourishment…"

The bastard sure can…Steve thought, darkly. Now, now, his better side intervened. Todd is our friend, we don't let our friends starve.

And now God or Fate has rewarded us with these new friends who have food and maybe even a boat to leave…

Or just more mouths to feed…His darker side sneered. Or to feed us if we're finally getting wisdom.

They seek the Precious…His dark side insisted. The Precious…

What? His better side, blinking inwardly. What the hell is that?

Food, you idiot! The dark side glared internally.

Well, they've got food.

So they say…And how long can their food last?

I mean, get details, idiot.

"Yeah, he takes some in. Mostly coconut and fish mash. Disgusting but what does he care?" Karen shrugged.

What do I care? Todd fumed internally. I'll show you how I care, you bitch! When I recover if I ever do!

Jess. Jess? How could you do this to me?

God, wasn't one amnesiac episode enough? Or did you fail to tell me before we got married that your family is subject to these?

Though it was more than that. You were following instructions. That nut's instructions.

How could you, Jess?

Moan, audible…

"He does that, sometimes." Karen noted

And we'd love to strangle it out of him…Steve's dark side thought.

Avant, evil creature! Good side, firmly.

Fine…But I'll be back. You'll want me soon enough to give you the courage to do what's necessary…And I'll…Be…Back.

Steven…Good side sighed. You know he does not look or sound like Schwarzenegger.

I know, Steve sighed.

So this is what really happened to you, brother…The Professor sighed, feeling pulse.

Jesus? Is that you, Roy? Todd thought, internally. I thought for sure you'd be dead by now.

By suicide what with Skylar your missus.

I was drunk that night, and all the other nights, till we broke up, Ginger thought. I don't remember a thing.

Or so I keep telling myself, whenever the memory pops up.

Todd Hinkle…She eyed his limp body.

Oh, God I loved you so…

You son of a bitch…

Though of course, you were lured away by that bimbo Jess…

Who does not seem to be in the area…

Wait, whoa…Hinkle. She eyed the Professor, rather tenderly examining Todd's head for injury.

I knew he (touch, scent, aura) was familiar!…Er, looked familiar…He Looked familiar.

No need to tell these people all my life story…

My brother's a professor…I remember that one. I thought he was just trying to impress me.

"You're his brother…" she gasped, all but Gill(igan) busy in his survey, followed now by a (just trying to be helpful till the Dark Side returns) Steve…Turning to view her.

…

Dr. Balinkoff's office, deep underground…

"Igor?" he eyed a triumphant Igor for once not lurking but standing proudly in the doorway, beaming at him. "You found her?"

"Here, Master!" Igor holding up chicken, clearly paralyzed with fright.

"Amanda!" Balinkoff, startled, then eyeing her carefully. "Yes…It is you. At last. Don't fear, we are going to restore you. Hopefully. If possible. And you have returned to us just in time to witness my triumph, tomorrow! When we launch Operation Safe Haven and I make my bid to…Rule and of course, save, the world!"

Igor taking dignified pose while holding Amanda carefully…

Will be a pity to lose all the progress we've achieved with Henmanda but perhaps she'll retain some of her new skills.

Bak…Amanda gasped out. Eyeing Balinkoff.

Bad man. No trust. Run. Oooh, gotta…

"That's ok, Amanda. I'll clean it up." Igor patted her. "So good to have you back."

He eyed Balinkoff…

"So we continue with the launch tomorrow, Master?"

"What? Oh, yes. I am convinced these castaways are mostly just what they claim. And if there are spies among them, the launch will surely ferret them out so that Jess and her team can deal with them." Balinkoff nodding shrewdly, then wondering look. "Where did you find her?" 

"She was running in the jungle from the new people and the old ones they'd met with. I thought they might find her and try…You know."

Amanda giving gasp and burying head in Igor's elbow…

Better man. Don't trust but…Better. Nice, sorta.

"There, there…It's ok, Manda." Igor patted her.

"Oh, poor thing." Balinkoff sighed. "I know you are frightened of us, Amanda, but we do wish to rectify your condition. It was all for Science after all and we know we have a Duty to you. Your body is just fine, no problems."

Slight cluck, head emerging…

"I swear, even the launch tomorrow will not delay my restoring you. Just let Igor take you down to the lab, we'll have you examined and make sure the transfer can be done without harm. Just calm yourself, dear girl. You are among friends." He beamed.

"Shortly to be…Very powerful friends."

….

Grumbie peered over the rail of the Minnow's port side to see a procession approaching…Ginger Grant and Mary Wholesomeby in the lead, behind them Gill(igan) pulling across the sands a large straw mat or pallet on which lay a prone figure, the Professor and a strange woman in very near rags on either side trying to watch the figure, behind them, Lovely Crumpt and a strange hefty man, like the strange woman, in near rags.

Crumpt, now on deck in a space he'd put up a sheet of paper pronouncing "Crumpt's Deckspace-no trepassing" rising slowly to peer at the group as well.

"Who the fuck are those people?! Go away and take that dead guy with you! This is my boat! My Stuff! Get the fuck out! You dirty migrants!" he cried, waving arms at them.

"It's not your boat and I will throw you overboard if you don't sit down, drink your Coke, and shut up." Grumbie told him quietly.

"Is so mine. Is mine!" Crumpt, sitting. "Mine!" he fumed. "Dirty migrants! Mexicans!" he cried.

"Go home! Tell me my university's a fraud. Dirty Muslins…!"

"Muslims, pal." Grumbie sighed.

He's getting less fun by the minute.

Which is good for the mission.

"Trump and I saw you dancing in Jersey on 9/11! Dirty muslins…" Crumpt, sitting and taking swig of Coke.

"Hey! I said I didn't like diet!"

"Tough." Grumbie shook head.

"You're fired!" bellow, wag of fat finger.

"Whatever, pal. Gilligan?!" Grumbie called down.

"Found some water, coconuts, and folks, Skipper!" Gilligan cheerily.


	12. Chapter 12

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XII…

After a ten minute rant to no avail, even the ever-patient and somewhat-subservient-to-power Mary a bit put out by his insults to her efforts to placate him… "Who the f- are you? Tell them to get the f- off my boat or you're fired! Hell, you can go with them, you stupid b-!", Crumpt had finally given up and sequestered himself in "Crumpt's Deckspace" occasionally demanding he be fed and someone tell him when the hell a limo or copter would pick him up. The others, too busy greeting the newcomers and helping them get settled or reviewing the day's events or helping with inventory or starting to prepare some means of cooking a dinner, ignoring him, he finally rose in anger and stormed below, demanding in passing that Lovely secure him three cheeseburgers, fries, and some the hell kind of chocolate shake…Only to find…

"Hey, you!" Crumpt screamed up to Lovely on deck. "Somebody put a stiff in my room! Tell 'em to get him the f-out!"

"Fredwyn, the poor man is in a coma." Lovely sighed.

'Hey, you' must be his pet name for her…Ginger, listening from the beach, hissed to Gilligan who smiled sheepishly as he grilled hamburgers on the fire he and the Skipper had built. The Professor having improvised a grill from parts on the Minnow and dried sand bricks. Steve eagerly and blissfully smelling the cooking meat, happily feeding the fire with dry driftwood.

"Screw him! Get him out or I'll…!"

"You'll shut up and leave the fellow alone, Crumpt!" the Skipper cut in from the table on deck where he and the Professor were drawing a map of the known section of the island and making an inventory list. "He needs the bed, it's not your room."

"Goddamn you! I fired you! I want him out, now!" Crumpt had climbed back up on deck, red-faced and puffing from both the unusual exertion and his rage.

"I don't work for you and this is my boat." Raising voice. "In fact, if your folks all don't mind…" Looking about… "I think we better make this clear once and for all. I'm the Skipper and I'm in charge here on this island until we find a rescue unless you folks have a better candidate in mind."

"That's me!" Crumpt cried. "Everyone wants me!"

"Not me!" the Professor, firmly. "The Skipper is best suited for leading us."

"Skipper for me!" Ginger calls from the beach.

"I'm with the Skipper!" Gilligan calls.

"Well, I suppose the Skipper really should be in charge of us." Mary, pondering a moment.

"The Skipper…" Lovely Crumpt nods, shy smile to the Professor.

"You worthless…!" Crumpt bellows, glaring at her. She eyeing him steadily till he looks away.

"Now, of course you new folks, Karen, Steve, have a say…" the Skipper calls.

"Yeah…What'll you take to vote my way!" Crumpt calls, waving fist in air. "I'm taking America and this island back!"

Didn't know he owned either…Ginger grins to Gilligan.

"Could be worse…It could be trump." Gilligan notes.

Uh…Well…Steve thought. I have been sharing the leadership with Karen among our little band of three...But this fellow Grumbie is a ship captain and it is his boat, which I do not wish to be ejected from…

"Captain Grumbie should do just fine by my lights!" he calls.

"Damned foreigner, who cares what you think!" Crumpt, fuming.

"I don't knows, Fred…I'm an American citizen for five years now." Lovely, smiling at the others.

"The other bitch didn't get to vote. Fraud!" Crumpt insists.

"The Skipper guy sounds fine to me." Karen calls from the tank shower below deck where she was carefully luxuriating in her first shower in months.

Buncha damned Commies…What kind of American don't take a bribe? Crumpt thinks angrily.

Well, she's probably a furrener too. And a lesbo.

"Thanks, folks." The Skipper nods. "Now lets get dinner finished and then the Professor and I will go over what we have and what we think we should do next, tomorrow."

"I paid you, Grumbie!" Crumpt cries.

"The usual fare…And you've gotten the same service everyone else has, even more so." the Skipper notes. "Now dinner is not included in that fare so if you want something to eat, shut up, sit down, and wait for it. Or better yet, how about lending a hand here?"

Heck, he didn't even tip…Gilligan notes with grin to Ginger, she tossing more driftwood on flames as he turns burgers.

"I don't do that. I'm a big picture guy. That fetch and carry is for losers, like you." Crumpt sneered.

Yeah, how could anyone not want to vote this guy into the White House…The Skipper thought.

What amazes me is how close he is to winning and how dimwitted his followers are to put him there. I guess our educational system really has declined. The idea that we should have to waste our valuable time and skills to take him out to save the nation is just insane…

"Fred, just sit and I'll bring your burger when it's done…" Lovely suggested, gentle tone.

"I said three burgers! And fries!. Coke, if these losers don't have milkshakes!"

"Two a piece, Fred." The Skipper, firmly. "No fries, sorry. We can give you some chips or pretzels or some salad."

"Commie health nut…" Crumpt mumbled. "Salad?"

"Well that's some relief…He won't last long." Ginger hissed to Gill(igan) who returned a quiet smile.

That's for sure.

…

Far below, in the main lab of the Balinkoff complex…

"Good, huh?" Igor stroked a reasonably calm and content Amanda as she pecked at the fresh grain he'd poured in bowl for her.

"The Doctor says you're in very good health, in spite of all that running around and being out in the jungle. He can go ahead with the transfer in just a few…He's getting Henmanda ready right now."

Amanda raising head to eye him…

Seriously? Henmanda?

"It was just an experiment, Amanda. If you hadn't run away, we'd've put you right back." He insisted.

Uh-huh. Sour "bak…" as she returned to pecking grain.

Eat…Get strong. Then, run…Unless. Mad guy really means it.

Get back my pretty nice body. Good.

Swear I'll never be bothered by my flabby upper arms again.

"Come, come, my dear…"

Amanda raising head in fear at the sound of Balinkoff's voice…As he led a rather nervous Henamanda carefully into the lab, a security guard in uniform by her side to keep her from running.

"Bak?" she eyed Amanda on lab table.

"Yes, yes…It's you." Balinkoff nodded. "We're all ready to put you back where you belong, with all your wonderful new skills. Won't that be nice, dear?"

The woman eyed him narrowly, then Amanda who regarded her.

Mine…Both thought, at once.

"Bak…bak…bak…No!" the woman cried, turning to flee. The guard holding her…

Both Igor and Balinkoff stunned.

"She talked, Master!"

"Yes, indeed she did." Balinkoff gasped. "She's starting to acquire linguistic ability, amazing. If only…"

"Master?" Igor, pleading tone.

Yes, yes…The course of true Romance and all that…

Besides, chickens don't live so long and who knows what damage is being done. It will be equally interesting after all to see how the poor girl recovers. Schizophrenia among other conditions a definite possibility…Alzheimer's early onset a lesser but still…

So much potential to learn here...

The rewards to medical science alone of my work here are sure to outweigh any minor moral qualms in all this…

"Igor, we'd best proceed before one of her injures herself, bring her to the chamber…" Balinkoff commanded.

"Yes, Master…Uh?"

"Oh, yes...The lady first."

"Right." He proceeded to where the increasingly nervous Henmanda was trying to wriggle free of the guard.

"Bak..Bak..Bak…Bak! No! No!" she cried.

"Bak!" an agitated Amanda responded.

No let her hurt my nice body!

Say…I think I've lost a little on the waist there. Eyeing body as Igor grabs the woman and firmly leads her to a glass chamber on the far side of the room.

Five plus pounds at least...Nice.

"Come, dear. This will all be over in a moment." Balinkoff took a suddenly squawking Amanda into his arms.

No trust you! No!

"It's all right, Amanda!" Igor called, closing the chamber door on Henmanda as she nervously flailed arms about…Bak!...

"Your body is all set for you. Just be calm, dear."

Ok…Nicer guy may not lie. Ok. She calmed in Balinkoff's arms, he carrying her over to a second glass chamber.

But soon as I get my bod back…I'm runnin' like hell. He setting her down on floor of the chamber.

"Just be calm, dear. One moment and you'll be yourself again…More or less." Balinkoff noted, locking chamber door.

Frowning at buzz from cell phone…

Delays…Delays…Nothing but…Delays…He takes phone.

"Yes, Jess? Oh, yes. That matter. How goes it? Yes, yes…?"

"Don't worry, honey." Igor, soothingly to Henmanda now quite agitated in her booth, arms striking randomly at the glass. "Just one more minute."

"Doc?" he turned to Balinkoff. "They're both getting' pretty antsy. I think I can handle it."

"Yes, go ahead." Balinkoff waved an arm. "Just be careful with the sequence, don't rush. Yes, well Jess, I trust you to handle things here. We want no more problems or delays but I'll go with your best judgment. Yes, yes…Very good."

Igor now at control panel, flipping switches. Electrical arcing now seen at electrodes at the tops of both booths.

"Igor! Safety glasses!" Balinkoff called.

"Oh, sorry, Master." Turning to grab goggles.

After all, the Balinkoff lab would not wish to jeopardize its safety rating…

Scientist, yes…Mad, no…Balinkoff nodded as Igor flipped final switches.

"Yes, Jess. You handle it and let us know how it goes." He told phone. "Just be sure there is no interference tomorrow. Whatever you feel necessary, dear girl, I'm sure you'll make the right call here. And thank you for all your hard work on this. Oh, we're about to restore Miss Donovan to her body. Yes, it should be very interesting to hear her experiences."

Bolts arcing about lab…Whizzing and whirring of machinery, both booths glowing.

Henmanda and Amanda both rigid and frozen in their respective positions now…

Then, as suddenly, both released and calming…Bolts subsiding, whirring fading.

"There we are…" Balinkoff beaming at a staring, startled Amanda, in her own body, nervously trying to open booth.

"Let me out, you crazy! Igor! Help me!"

"There's our girl, Igor." Balinkoff smiles over. Igor likewise beaming.

Well, your girl…Of course.

Bak…Bak…Henmanda in her chicken body staring over.

Kinda skinny that one. My mate would never wanted me that thin.

Bak…


	13. Chapter 13

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XIII…

The pig-eyed rage on Crumpt's face had turned to cowardly terror as Karen had continued to press her foot on his fat neck's windpipe after she emerged from the tank shower to find him trying to drag the comatose Todd out of the bed in the lower cabin, confronted him, blocked his clumsy attempt to throw her aside, and swiftly brought his large bulk to the floor with a swift kick and heave.

"Glug…g…" he gasped as the Skipper and Professor, followed by a rather reluctant Lovely had come down into the cabin at the noise.

Wow. A bit more pressure and Gill(igan) and I can consider our work here done, Grumbie noted.

But, poor woman shouldn't have to face jail over this sack of crap…He hurried over, the Professor following…

"Come on, Miss! Let him up!"

Leave him to the professionals, lady.

"He was trying to toss Todd out of the bed…And he took the first poke at me." Karen glared at Crumpt.

Steve now at the top of the stairs, eyeing the scene.

Big mistake, Mr. Crumpt. To take on Karen.

"Let him up, please, Miss Cushman." The Professor urged.

Lovely behind the Professor, eyeing Fredwyn on the floor…

"Please, I'm sorry. He's very stressed." She sighed.

"He's a lot of things, I doubt stress is much of a factor." Karen noted, lessening pressure.

"Geeett her off me!" groan.

"Miss, I have to ask you…" the Skipper, insistent.

"Anything, pal." Wicked gleaming grin.

Steve rolling eyes…That's Karen…Always makes a play for the guy in power…

"Yeah, yeah, ok." She sighed at the looks.

"Get up you sack of garbage." She ordered, taking foot off.

"Some…" wheeze… "…Body. Lock…" wheeze… "Herrrr." Cough, wheeze… "Up." Crumpt groaned, trying to rise.

"Could you gentlemens give me a hand with him?" Lovely had come to where Crumpt still lay trying to rise in sitting position.

Think we'll need two more men…The Skipper and Professor each thought.

"Come on, heave ho!" Karen thrust an arm under Crumpt's right arm at the shoulder, waving to the Skipper who did likewise with the left.

"Upsidaisy…" she noted.

"Lock…Her…UP!" Crumpt pointed a fat finger, still wheezing.

"Sorry, no." the Skipper shook head.

"I'll…Get…You…All of you…For dis…!" Crumpt gasped, Lovely coming to his side. "When I'm President, yous'll feel the wrath of Crwumpt!" he insisted.

"Not now, darling. Come, lets go back on deck." She offered hand, he thrusting it aside.

"Get…That guy…Outta my…Bed! Now!" he gasped at the Skipper.

"No." shake of head. "He needs it and you can sleep on deck or on the beach."

"God…" cough… "…damn you!" Crumpt turned and started up the stairs.

Come on, do my job for me, God. Grumbie thought.

"Help me up here!" Crumpt turned back to Lovely who stepped forward. The Professor eyeing her, shaking head.

She giving sad-eyed shrug…

…

"Now Ms. Donovan…" Balinkoff sighed as Amanda backed away.

"I only want to finish a physical exam to be sure your brain is functioning normally."

"Amanda, the Doctor won't hurt you. It's fine." Igor assured her as he continued to hold her firmly in his grip, she glaring at him.

"'Fine'? The madman put me into a chicken! I was a chicken for three months!"

Wasn't any great picnic for me, either, Henmanda thought, eyeing her.

What is 'picnic'? She pondered. Oh…It's all fading. Peering to read sign. Yes, 'Shield eyes from light' thank the Mother Hen I still can read.

Geesh, this mean I have to go back to walking in my own poop? How could you do this to me? She eyed Balinkoff, still engaged in trying to calm Amanda.

Igor! She'll never love you! Anxious thrust of head Igor's way. Put me back and I could forget my mate like that. He's a miserable bastard anyway, always pushing me around, never even asks me if I want it.

"Amanda, it wasn't his fault you ran away…" Igor pleaded. "He just needed the one quick experiment to confirm the system. You did volunteer, in a way."

"'Volunteer'…Right." Bitter stare. "It was that or…Poor Jess…"

"Jess is ok, just…"

"Don't tell me what Jess is now! She tried to hunt me down! God, Igor…" Amanda shook head at the burly man. "I trusted you, you said you'd help me."

"And I did, Amanda. I got the Doctor to give you a chance to evade conditioning and to leave here. And to let me rescue you after you ran."

Indeed, Igor has been besotted…Balinkoff sighed. Just hope somehow Romance works out in the end. He is, after all, my dear friend as well as my oldest employee.

And what now, you're done with me?!" she asked anxiously, glancing between the two…

Kinda wondering about that myself…Henmanda sighed.

Am I back to being the breakfast egg producer or…

Sunday dinner? She gulped.

"What do you mean?" Igor shook head. "We saved you. I'd never harm you."

Yeah? Well I did catch that qualifying "I" Amanda thought. Henmanda likewise.

"My dear…" Balinkoff sighed. "I've no intention and no need to harm you. I only want to be sure you endured your state without harm."

"Oh, right, sure." Amanda frowned. "You want to experiment on me some more. I should have just died in the crash."

"Don't talk like that…" Igor, sadly. "The Doctor was just trying to benefit Humanity and we'd no idea if your human body would recover. Putting you into Henmanda saved your mind while your body was in stasis. It was only going to be a few days…But you ran…"

Yeah, lady…I be the real victim here. Grateful as I am for the at least temporarily expanded mind, Henmanda thought, doing a mental frown and puckering face as much as possible.

I was just starting to master speech…Sad reflection.

"I have no intention of experimenting further on you, Amanda." Balinkoff sighed. "And Igor is right, it was necessary to put your body in stasis and protect your mind. Normally an induced coma would have been the proper procedure, it's just that here I saw the chance to try another method and advance Neuroscience. And the procedure did save your life."

"You'll never let me go. I'll die here." She glared, then shook head sadly.

"That's not so…" Balinkoff shook head. "And you know I need have no worries that you'd talk about my work or this place…"

She eyed him apprehensively. "You said…You swore…If I let you run that experiment and didn't struggle…"

"And I will keep my promise. You won't be like the others. You'd simply forget all that happened here." He noted.

Oh…Igor, crestfallen.

"Unless of course you'd care to join me, join your old friends, join us, in our crusade to save the World." Balinkoff, grandiloquently.

And me, Igor, wistfully.

…

"We should go…Now…To London." Nauri pleaded to 009 as she led him back into the village after pointing out the trail to the volcano/Fire God's summit and its severe difficulties…

"Now, now, dear little one." 009 patted her hand. "Tomorrow you'll take me to the Fire God's home, I'll speak to Him in the Name of my Queen, and then to my people, and we can be off."

"For London?" eager question.

"Certainly…" nod.

The Hotel London, in Wellington should do nicely, he thought.

And I can set her up either with a job as maid there or…Well, some other line of work in the hospitality industry. Always a friend or contact looking for cheap and ununionized, easily intimidated help…

"Now, suppose I see what I can find for us to eat here…" 009 suggested. "I heard a sound like a wild pig off in the jungle there."

Pig…Ummn. Not really sure if I want pork…She thought.

"Perhaps you could collect some coconuts and any herbs or if you have any food here?" he suggested.

"Ok. But after we eat we should go." She frowned.

"I'll have my Queen send a great bird to take us to London tomorrow afternoon, I promise."

"I sleep in that hut. Alone." she pointed. "I be no whore girl."

"I wouldn't dream otherwise." 009 insisted.

009 likes em feisty.

Whereas 007 generally goes for breathing…004 for lusty young males or androgynous women willing to dress up…003 for unconscious…002 preferring his wife, happily married type. We get them, even among the suave rogues of Her Majesty's SS.


	14. Chapter 14

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XIV…

Deep underground, in the Balinkoff complex, built below the old CIA facilities…

Igor leading a nervous Amanda into Conference Room A where members of Balinkoff's staff were gathering for a final evening briefing before tomorrow's long anticipated launch.

"Amanda, you saw…Dr. Balinkoff didn't hurt you, he just did a few tests. You're fine despite the three months in Henanada…" His brutal bruiser's features taking on a kindly aspect, even a tender one…

"Can we stop calling it that, please?" she eyed him as they took seats in the back row of the room.

"Sure…I just mean that you're ok. And just pointing out you survived because of his work. You might not have if he hadn't been able to keep your body in stasis while it healed after your crash."

"I wouldn't've crashed if he hadn't had my copter shot down." She noted, bitterly.

"He didn't shoot you down, it was an automatic system. We did warn you before you tried to escape. He did all he could to save you and he did. I know he felt terrible about it. Boris hates to harm people, really."

"Except if it's to his benefit…" she frowned.

"Amanda…"

"Look what he did to my friends…And a lot of people I never got the chance to meet the last three years since our plane crashed." She looked about at the eager faces. "They're his servants now."

"Not servants…Followers." Igor corrected. "They chose it over being held and now they believe in him and his cause. Our work. And some even sorta voluntarily…"

She eyed him…

"There are a few…" he noted, a bit sheepishly. "And it was either convert them to his cause, a noble one, I think. You kinda thought so at first… Or leave them to fend for themselves, on the different islands and here. He did rescue them, you know."

"It sounded ok, at first…World peace and order…" she shrugged. "Then I found out what it would cost."

"What other way wouldn't take centuries of struggle to achieve…With courage and daring world peace and the solutions to many of the crippling problems of Humanity can be secured now." Igor, solemnly.

"Now you're just parroting him. With a line he stole from Vincent Price's Robur in 'Master of the World'." She frowned. "He's had us watch it often enough on movie night."

"His favorite movie, but it's still true…And I believe in it. In the Master."

"I wonder sometimes if you're conditioned too and just don't know it... 'The Master'?"

"We came from Europe, it's different there…My family served his for centuries. It's just a form of address. We're friends, really. He saved my life several times, you know."

"Prove it then…That you're independent. Help me stop this and save my friends."

He gave downcast look. Amanda…

"Look, I don't deny it's a nice dream…" Amanda noted, putting up a hand. "But he's crazy and ruthless and he feels entitled to experiment on people without regard for them or their rights. What kind of world ruler would he make?"

"Amanda…Just…Hear him out."

"I have before, it's the same old spiel…"

"Hey, Manda…" Owen's cheery voice, he coming to them.

Oh, God…She sighed.

"Hey, Owen…" you pathetic Moonie. "How are you?"

"Great, just great…" Owen, in checkered shirt and khakis, sporting a "launch controller" badge pinned to said shirt, took seat next to her. "Igor, great job rescuing Mandy here."

"Thank you, Owen." Igor nodded pleasantly. "I'm just glad she's ok."

"And how's…"

"The chicken's just fine." Amanda, grimly. "Maybe a bit disappointed losing her expanded mind…The one she gained at my expense while my friends did nothing."

"Actually the Doctor says it seems to be retaining some advanced facilities…" Igor noted.

"Great…" Amanda, sourly.

"Well, it's all for Science and it all worked out." Owen, happily. "So, all set for the big day? I know I'm psyched." His rather handsome features radiant. "We've all worked so hard for this."

"Yeah…Rah." Amanda frowned.

"Sorry you don't appreciate what the Doctor's trying to do." Owen sighed. "But if you'd just.."

"Please…" she put up a hand. "Don't give me the cult spiel. It doesn't work on me, yet." Sigh. "Though I suppose soon enough…"

"The Doctor said no…You won't be conditioned, Amanda." Igor insisted. "Just a memory wipe so he can send you home."

"Sure…" sigh.

"I'm not happy about it, you know…But if it's what you want…" he sighed.

"I don't want to stay here, slaving for Balinkoff's Brave New World." She frowned. "You want to serve him, stay."

"I understand." Igor nodded. "I know I'm not exactly a dream date…It's fine."

"Igor." She frowned. "Don't make this about you or us… You know I care about you. But what he's doing is wrong."

"Oh, that's not so, Amanda…" Owen cut in. "I'm sorry to butt in, but I have to defend the Doctor here…"

"Enough!" she put up a hand. "I can't change you or me. Lets just not talk about it. How's Jess? Is she coming?"

"She's on duty…But she's as excited as I am."

"I wonder how Todd feels about it and you two…" she eyed him.

"I'm sorry Todd chose to run and hide from us. But Jess did choose me." He noted.

"She was forced to by your wonderful Dr. Balinkoff…Well, he manipulated her so she'd choose you. And hunt down her friends, her husband."

"It was necessary…" Owen sighed. "No one wanted to hurt him, least of all Jess."

"She shot at him! I saw!"

"He was trying to stop the Project." Sigh. "She was Security Chief, she had her duty."

"Deprogram her and lets see how she feels about that…" Amanda, insistent.

"Mandy…" sigh.

A young woman in grey uniform came to the podium in the front of the room motioning for silence…

"Louise…" Amanda sighed. "So she didn't get away…"

"She would have drowned trying to sail off in that raft." Owen shook head. "And she's devoted to the Cause now."

"Lovely…" Amanda glared at him then sighed at his somewhat sad face…

"I know it's not your fault, Owen…" she patted his arm.

"Quiet, everyone, please!" Louise addressed the microphone on the podium, looking out over the sea of eager faces.

"I give you, our Leader, Dr. Boris Balinkoff!" she waved to the right where Balinkoff now entered from the hallway, in cape and suit, beaming and waving to the cheers as he came to the podium.

"Friends! Colleagues! Ladies and Gentlemen! I, your favorite mad…Just kidding…Scientist stand before you to tell you how proud I am of you all! Your efforts have made Operation Safe Haven a reality…And will make Operation World Peace equally so, shortly!"

Cheers, clapping…Owen rising with the rest…Only Amanda remaining seated.

"Please…Take your seats, everyone." Balinkoff waved…All sitting. "And I should pause just a moment to acknowledge the safe return and recovery of our good friend, Amanda! Amanda, we are all so happy to have you back safe and sound."

Cheers…Eyes turned to Amanda, who frowned…But relenting, nodded.

Yeah…Thanks.

"My friends, tomorrow we launch our fleet to commence the final stages of Safe Haven…All is set, all secure. Within the week we will have the Safe Haven platform up and running, a secure base in geodesic orbit over this isle!"

Cheers…

"And once completed, the world must accept our demands…For Peace, Disarmament, Global Prosperity for all, an end to Global Warming, to Oppression and War! We will achieve the Star Trek universe, the nice one of the Classic series, not that dark 'Picard' one, centuries ahead of schedule. We, my friends, are Asimov's Mule and his Empire, breaking the Seldon Plan and fulfilling it ahead of schedule, without the centuries of suffering otherwise entailed and with no Second Foundation to stop us!"

Cheers…

"You know I didn't even know about Asimov and his robots and stuff…Or much about Star Trek…Till the Doctor helped me understand things." Owen noted eagerly to Amanda who eyed him with frown. "But now I do and it's so wonderful!"

"Yeah. Sure." She sighed.

Of course, there's always a chance Boris is wrong about that Second Foundation…

…

A still grumbling Crumpt had settled down in "Crumpt's Deckspace…Keep out, losers!" after grousing about his measly two burgers, no fries, no shake…Coconut slice for dessert? You kiddin'? You're fired!...And was now snoring loudly under a blanket Lovely had begged for him from the Skipper.

The others on the ground seated about a bonfire Gill(igan) had started, Karen and Steven relishing the first beef and their first shower in a year…Ginger and Mary seated next to them on the ground, the Professor scanning the sky trying to take observations with the Skipper's sextant, Lovely attempting to assist by writing down his observations for him, Gilligan feeding the flames from time to time with the wood he'd gathered.

The Skipper reviewing his inventory list, complied with the Professor's help…

"Well, folks…There's not much but at least we've found water and some food…" he noted aloud to all. "And the really good news seems to be that some of you found evidence that there's either natives living on the island or have been. We have to check out that village Karen and Steve told us about, tomorrow."

"We've never seen natives there…" Karen noted. "It's been deserted since we arrived."

"Even so, the fact that natives once lived on this island suggests they may return…" the Professor had come over, Lovely following, diligently writing.

"Godless heathen…" Mary sighed. "Thieves, rapists, and murderers, all, no doubt. Still, so long as they can be terrorized into accepting the Word of God's Love or at least into helping us…And never allowed to immigrate to our nation…"

"I would imagine they're fairly sophisticated in today's world…Likely even Christianized." The Professor noted, drily.

"Lets just hope they are here or come frequently…And have contact with the outside world…" the Skipper, nodding.

Though not before Gill and I complete the mission, natch. Hope we won't have problems there. I hate to have to eliminate innocents.

Though on this isle? A former CIA training base and research center? I'd have my doubts about any 'natives' living here. And check if they speak Russian or Chinese.

Or Israeli…Or French…Or German…Or British…

Not that I don't love and appreciate our allies…But in the spy game sometimes alliances are fickle.

…

"Questions? Anyone?" Balinkoff eyed the group of devoted followers minus one…

"Sir?" a slight blonde woman in everyday blouse and pants rose…

Florence…Amanda blinked.

Geesh, I thought you died on Billionaires' Isle when we scrambled for the remaining boats and you were trampled in the rush.

But Balinkoff did say he would rescue as many of us as he could…And he was true to his word on that, far as I and Danny know…

After all, he needed a larger labor force and once converted they work cheap.

Danny…She sighed.

Dare I ask?

"Yes, Florence. And welcome home from your buying expedition to the States." Balinkoff noted pleasantly.

Geesh…Flo? You were in the States and didn't try to escape…? You wuss. Amanda, annoyed.

Well, still…Not her fault…If Balinkoff had used conversion on me I'd probably've gone happily over myself and come back like a good little dog.

Still…

And Danny, bless him. He resisted.

"Thank you, sir." Florence beamed. "My question is about the new arrivals…Aren't they a danger to the Project?" she sat back down.

"A very good question…" nod. "But no, my dear, I don't believe so. They seem to be ordinary people merely having a bit of bad luck and no threat to us or my plans. We are monitoring them."

"But…Sorry to question you, sir." Florence rising again. "If I may…?"

"Certainly, certainly…"

"They have made contact with the refugees…Karen and Steve…I understand. What if they tell them about you? And us?"

"They might. But it's unlikely. Their self-preservation instincts are very high and they know the possible consequences of speaking of us. Besides, even if they did, they and the others can't interfere now. There's only the very limited access to the old and new base and it's well defended. And they cannot leave the isle, there is no longer any means of transport outside making a raft and suicidally attempting to sail away in thousands of miles of empty ocean, even if they could get past our tracking and defenses."

"But don't the newcomers have a boat, Doctor? Sorry, again." Florence, nervously.

"Not at all, it's good of you to be concerned, my dear." Wave, kindly smile. "Their boat was badly damaged and cannot be made seaworthy with the materials available to them. Jess and her team determined that the first day as they slept. And of course if they could do so we would prevent them from leaving… Indeed they present a useful opportunity…"

"More of us to follow you and the Plan?" Florence smiled.

"Not exactly…Though it's useful to have some non-converted subjects on hand for testing…I have a key project as part of Operation World Peace that may require them…But their presence here is a useful blind. Should the CIA at last seek to check out their old base or merely a passing ship spy them, their testimony as to the desolate nature of the isle could be helpful in preventing unwanted attention."

Another arose, a heavy-set man… "But…Sorry, question, Doc."

"Certainly, yes." Balinkoff nodded.

"If they were found, wouldn't Steve and Karen and Todd talk? They'd be safe once off and we couldn't shoot down a CIA force or sink a passing ship without attracting some attention…Sir."

"They won't. They won't put your and Daniel's lives at risk. Though of course I swear I would never really do so…Merely the threat to hold them in check. I trust everyone is aware of that."

"Yes, sir!" cries. "We love ya, Doc!" Owen crying.

Oh, god…Amanda sighed.

"Our agreement with them and Daniel has held firm so far, I believe it will last out the next few days without problems. Afterwards? With Safe Haven secure? I don't see a problem."

"Sir?" Florence raising hand again.

"Dear, of course."

"We will keep our agreement to let them go once Safe Haven is ready? Before we blow up the isle?" she eyed him, a bit anxiously.

"Certainly, dear…Certainly. Transport will be provided for them as promised." He nodded.

"What about Danny?!" Amanda, suddenly. "They're not in contact and you don't know where he's hidden up."

"He'll reveal himself in time, Amanda." Balinkoff sighed. "Though if only he'd joined me."

Danny…That remarkable fellow who resisted the Balinkoff Process.

John Strock to my Robur…Sigh.

Yes, potentially the one man who could possibly stop me…

Just as you, dear Amanda are the Bayta Darrell to my Mule…He eyed her. The one woman who could stop me, if she ever gets the chance. The one person I choose not to convert to my team, because I like you so much and Igor loves you.

And after so many experimental transfers to test my brain transfer process early on when I had few subjects, Igor and I are nearly one…With some natural independence. Brothers, in spirit, certainly.

Indeed I fear my character was somewhat more selfish and dark before we merged a bit…Operation World Peace was a bit more "World One Man Rule" then.


	15. Chapter 15

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XV…

The hut in the "natives' village" Agent 009 had occupied for the night…

Early am…Well before sunrise…

"Hello?" the strikingly handsome agent carefully and lithely lying on straw mat but fully dressed, addressed his slender satellite phone. "This is 009 to MI6, come in."

He glanced about carefully, taking all in…

Including the lack of companionship…

So, Nauri had decided not to join him…

Pity…

But, save that bit for later…A little amusement and reward for a job well done…

"009? Receiving you? What do you have to report?" his earpiece, crackling.

"The isle appears deserted but for a native girl. There was a village here but it may have been a deception. Seems likely our information is correct and the place was either used by our American friends or our old rivals. I've not found the main base yet but I am checking the volcano this morning. Are we still getting unusual readings?"

"Negative, 009, it's returned to normal. Though that is actually unusual…"

"Too quick a return, eh?" amused smile.

"Indeed." Curt reply.

Show off bastard…He could have let me have this one, Q at MI6 frowned at his phone.

"So, the volcano is unlikely a real one…" 009 noted.

"It's impossible to say exactly, gases and temperatures appear consistent with volcanic activity, but volcanos don't start and shut off periodically, 009." Q, slight annoyance at being denied a surprise revelation. "Though if someone is causing this, it's an amazing technology, especially in concealing it so long. Our first indication of renewed activity was over a year ago, as I hope you know."

"I've read the reports, Q." smile. "And the reason why I was called in…Sporadic traces of what appear to be intense radiation."

"But carefully filtered as if someone were deliberately trying to remove all traces, we were only lucky our satellite was doing atmospheric testing at the right time. It can't be natural and we must know about it 009, it must be a major project and the whole reason for someone utilizing a base on that island. And its concealment is troubling…"

"Likely American, given our intel on the base here."

"Regardless, we must know. If even our allies are keeping such a project from us, at such a critical time when Russia may gain control of their government via trump or Crumpt…"

"Well, I'll inspect it after sunrise."

"What about this 'native girl'." M at base had cut in, his tone stern. "Apart from my usual desire to see you conduct yourself with a modicum of decorum, 009, it has occurred to you that she ought not to be there if the village is, as you feel, a deception?"

"Of course…Though she seems authentic enough…Her people came and found the place, thought the village rather odd and fled, leaving her when she became ill. But I'll keep my guard up."

"And your trousers, I hope, 009. M out."

"Sir…" amused grin. "Q? Anything else?"

"Just make sure you scan the area properly…And don't get too close, even if it's a phony, it has the readings of a real volcano when active. Awaiting your report. Q out."

He closed phone and slid it down to the appearance of a pen which he put in his pocket…Carefully approaching the hut entrance…Peering out…

"Nauri? Dear girl, it's me." He called, softly.

"Hello." She appeared just outside, a bit tousled but fully dressed in sarong.

"We go now? To England?" she urged.

"After I meet with the Fire God and report to my Queen, dear, as I've said." 009 nodded.

"No good, Fire God will be angry." She shook head.

"I think he or she will listen to me." He smiled.

…

Sunrise…

The Minnow…

"Gilligan?!" the Skipper called over to the sleeping Gilligan who was instantly awake but remained apparently asleep for a few moments while he surveyed the surrondings.

"Wake up, little buddy!" cheery call. "We'll wanna get some breakfast and start that trek up the mountain. Professor! Rise and shine, we'll need you fellas to get an early start! Yo, Steve?! Time to get up."

"Hmmn…Yes…" the Professor, stretching and rising…

"Professor?" Ginger on deck near him, under a blanket, peered out.

"Morning, Miss Grant. Gilligan, Steven, and I are heading up to the native village, see what we can learn there." He sat up on the deck, coughing suddenly. It quickly turning into a loud hacking.

"Professor?" Ginger rose out of the blanket, dressed in the shorts and a shirt she'd borrowed from the ship's meager clothes stores. Male dress but tolerable.

"I'm fine, allergies…" he smiled at her as she came to him.

"That's some hay fever…" she frowned at the lie. "I don't know if you should be climbing mountains today."

"It's not that high. I'll be fine." He rose. "There. Good as gold…" coughing suddenly, bending over…She putting arm about him to support…

"Good morning!" Mary Wholesomeby, rising cheerily from under another blanket. "Another glorious day, praise Jesus!"

"Sure." Ginger eyed her wearily. Mary eyeing the pair as she stood up…Lord…Not that, so soon.

Lust for sure…

Fornication to follow…

Sin, unquestionably…

"How about some water, Professor?" Ginger urged, moving to grab one of several canteens brought back from their expedition the previous day. "At least now you've confirmed it's safe, we've plenty of that." She offered it to him, he taking, gratefully.

"Thanks, Miss Grant."

"Are you all right, Professor?" Mary, concerned.

Perhaps I was a bit too quick to judge, a fault in the godly at times.

Though usually I can spot sin a mile away…And quash it in the bud.

"Good morning, everyone…" Lovely Crumpt had quietly climbed the stairs after rising early and descending to check on the poor man comatose below…Todd Hinkle by name, according to their new comrades and the Professor.

"Your brother is sleeping well, I gave him some water on the lips." She noted to the Professor.

"Thanks, Mrs. Crumpt. I'll go and see myself in a minute." He nodded.

"Good." She smiled. "You should."

Whatever unpleasantness between you, she did not say but her look implied.

"Let me see how Fred is doing…" she went over, crossing the rope Crumpt had feebly put up to mark "his" deckspace.

"I'll see what we can get together for breakfast…" Mary moved to the stairs. "Skipper, is it all right to use some of the eggs?" she asked.

"May as well, they won't last long without keeping them refrigerated and I don't want to run the generator more than I have to." He noted, wan smile. "And I understand some of you folks spotted at least one chicken yesterday."

"We can take the remaining eggs and other perishables to the waterfall stream." The Professor noted. "That should keep them chilled enough."

"Great idea, Professor." The Skipper nodded. "Gilligan? Can you help Ms. Wholesomeby get the stuff for breakfast and pack up all the refrigerated items left? You can use that extra tarp for us to carry 'em and cover them in the water in the stream and the rope there to anchor them so they don't move."

"Sure, Skipper. Hey, Ms. Wholesomeby." Gill(igan) smiled at the girl who smiled shyly.

"It's Miss, Mr. Gilligan." She noted, with nod. "Ms. Is an ungodly construct of the communist lesbian feminists, hated by God. No offense taken, though."

"Sure. Miss…" nod. "And you can just call me 'Gilligan'. Everybody does."

Except when it's 'Gill', 'Agent Gill', or 'God, please no! I'll tell you everything!'. The late Russian president, Putinsky, was especially voluble on that score a few days ago.

…

Deep underground…

An alarm ringing in Dr. Balinkoff's well-appointed bedroom…

"Ah! Launch Day!" he sat up in bed, immediately alert.

"Good morning, Dr. Balinkoff." Louise's face on a video screen, she in uniform. "Breakfast with the launch team in one hour. All tanks pressurized. All systems go. Pilots on board. Crews will board in one hour, fifteen minutes. The security action is underway. T minus three hours and counting."

"Excellent…Open a channel to the facility?"

"Channel open, sir."

"Greetings all! Good Morning on the dawn of a new Era! Launch Day!" he beamed. "Reports? Launch control?"

"Launch control…Owen here, sir." Owen's face on screen in inset. "Green and go across the board. We are ready for launch. T minus two hours, fifty-eight minutes and counting."

"Cabin control? Pilots?!"

Florence in a spacesuit, clearly in a space ship's cabin at controls, in inset. "Balinkoff One is go, doctor!" Another suited figure in a second cabin, "George here, Balinkoff Two is go!" A third inset…A suited female… "Angela here, Balinkoff Three is go!"

"Good, good, good…Security control?"

"Jess here…" Jess' image on screen. "Security action underway, no immediate problems, we will remain in contact, expect temporary hold in one hour. Defenses on automatic alert, no warnings."

"Igor? Physical Security?"

Igor in inset, nodding. "All good, Master. No signs of interference from the new folks, no new visitors on or near the island."

"Excellent… I'll see most of you in an hour. Keep my seat ready, Florence, I'll board in ninety minutes! A glorious day, all! Excellent work, everyone!"

…


	16. Chapter 16

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XVI…

The underground Balinkoff complex…

Amanda in a laundered version of her old airline stewardess outfit, she having long preferred it to anything else…Made things seem a little more normal somehow…Wandering the complex's labs as folks scurried about her, she the only one with nothing to do on this crucial morning, not trusted to handle anything vital or of import.

And just right now it all was vital or of import.

She found herself in the main research lab, eyeing the various devices, offering nods to the busy staff who occasionally smiled at her or greeted her, but kept a careful eye on her.

There…The damned transfer booth…Where her descent into chickenhood had begun…

Another mad experiment by the world's leading mad scientist…

Though to be fair, it had saved her life…

Ah, there…Someone who I can talk to, in a somewhat private space, away from the main lab…Who knows me probably as well as I know myself to some extent…She went over.

Henmanda eyeing her from her cage…Yo, sister.

"How are they treatin' you girl?" Amanda cooed to the hen who came up to the bars.

Not so bad, Henmanda thought…A bak-bak the only vocalization. You look better since yesterday, sister.

"What am I gonna do, girl?" Amanda sighed. "I can't stop the launch, I can't release my friends…I can't even pull off an escape."

Bak…Henmanda, giving effort at shrug.

What you gonna do? Though I feel your pain, eyeing the bars…

"Well, come here. At least I can let you out."

Okay…Henmanda looking about as Amanda opened the cage…

"Just playing with my counterpart a second…" she eyed a technician regarding her.

"Ok, fine but stay away from the equipment…" the tech noted.

"You wanna come out and have a walk round?" Amanda gently lifting Henmanda out.

Sure, why not…Just…? Careful stare. Hmmn… No one with a cleaver or mallet.

Ok…She let Amanda hoist her to the floor and began cautiously peering around…Taking a cautious step or two.

"Just don't run or they'll make me put you back in the cage…" Amanda told her.

Fine, just let me stretch a bit…The hen peered about.

Things look busy…

"Balinkoff is about to launch. I have no way to reach Danny or the others or these new people on the Isle…" sigh. "Might as well be in the cage with you."

Bak…Sympathetically…

"Maybe it's for the best…Maybe Balinkoff and Igor are right and this will bring about world peace. I don't know anymore." Amanda shook head, sitting. Henmanda coming up to her.

Bak…Kindly stare.

"I hope you got something out of this…" Amanda eyed the hen. "I guess you did, Igor says your brain was permanently, more or less, expanded."

Expanded? Expanded…? Oh…Get bigger, yes. Yeah, I still got something, thanks.

Course if you enjoyed your time in here…I'd not be averse…The hen eyed one transfer booth.

Well, guess not…As Amanda looked away, forlorn.

Hmmn…Danny?

Mate? Wasn't he the one who came up to me after the transfer and thought I was the human and tried to get me to leave, the hen thought. Big mfer…Very rooster, yeah. Yes, he was yelling at Balinkoff and tall guy and…What?

What did you do to her? You said you'd help her, he says. Yeah.

Then the guards pulled me away and I no see him again. Cock of head at Amanda…Yours? Nice. I like em big rooster types.

Though it seems hard on big tall guy…Igor? Yeah, Igor. He likes us so much.

He good big rooster, go with him now. Danny come back, go with him. Easy.

"I know I should try to stop this but they don't trust me, even if everyone's nice to me…Which I guess is kudos for a mad scientist who can be kind to someone trying to stop him, but…I could never get near anything. Even if I pretended to join them, they wouldn't trust me."

Hmmn…I'd keep out of politics, girl. Dangerous…And I avoid danger like the plague, Henmanda thought.

Plague? Plague…Ah, sick time…sickness. Something like that, yeah.

"If only I could get outside again…Get to those people and Steve and Karen and Danny…" sigh. "And poor Todd…" sigh. "I wonder if he died, he was in bad shape after Jess shot at him, Danny said he was in a coma." Shaking head. "Jess, how could you? Even conditioned? He was your husband, and I saw how much you loved each other. Now you're with Owen? And devoted to Balinkoff and his schemes. Even ready to kill for him."

Whoa…Kill? Who's being killed? Henmanda peered about, agitated.

"It's ok. Don't get upset, honey." Amanda patted her.

Yeah, sure…But who's being killed? Anxious looking about.

"You might wanna put her back in her cage, Amanda." Louise in her uniform had come to her.

"Hey…." "Hey." Smile.

"So, today's the big day?" Amanda eyed her.

"Oh, yeah…" Gushing tone.

"And you're what? Here to guard me?"

"Well, sorta…But I wanted to take you to the staff breakfast…And then I thought we could watch the launch together?"

"Balinkoff's assigned you to me?"

"Actually, no…" Louise smiled. "This was my idea. We're not robots, kiddo. We still think for ourselves. I've not got a lot to do now and I thought it would be fun. We haven't had a chance to hang out since you…"

"Stopped being a chicken?" Amanda eyed her. Henmanda as well…

Do I know her? Oh, right friend of my counterpart. Wait…She held me down when the bad guy put us in the machine.

Bak…Annoyed tone.

"Well, yeah…" Louise grinned. "Don't forget I was Florence for a bit…Well in Flo's body…I've had a taste of it."

"Not three months… Not in a chicken. No offense, honey." Amanda told Henmanda who bowed head graciously.

None taken, sister. Though I will admit, I got the better of that deal.

"Yeah, your Master loves his little jokes…" bitter tone.

"It was a test. I volunteered."

"I didn't." Amanda, grimly. "And you didn't either, you were manipulated. He wanted to see if you and Flo would stay under his control."

"It's not like that, Mandy."

"Right, you can walk out on him any time…" she eyed the sighing Louise. "I'm sorry. You can't help yourself. I only wish I could help you and the others. I should've been stronger…Tried to get you out with Steven and Karen and Todd and Danny…"

"Out there? In the jungle? No thanks, hon. I been there for the past three years." Louise shrugged. "Look, if it's any consolation, I forgive you for not saving me. Ok? And I'm fine, happier than I've ever been, especially these last three. I just wish you could know the joy I feel working for the Cause and the Doctor." Eager beam.

"No thanks in my turn. But lets not argue. You mentioned breakfast?"

Breakfast? Henmanda eyed the pair.

"Let me get my pal here something and we'll go." Amanda looked about, spying a bag of feed on shelf under cage.

Yeah, breakfast. Nice. Henmanda nodded.

…

"You sure you don't mind watching out for him, Mr. Skipper?" Lovely addressed Grumbie as she adjusted the veil on her bonnet.

"Not a problem, ma'am." The Skipper nodded. "Miss Wholesomeby and I can see to him while we see what else can be salvaged from the boat. Just be careful out there. Make sure the Professor and Gilligan take no chances."

"I'll do that…" Ginger grinned at him. She now likewise sporting an improvised veiled bonnet along with her earlier outfit. "Are we ready to go find our natives, guys?" she called to the Professor and Gilligan.

"I don't know if Miss Grant and Mrs. Crumpt should go, Skipper." Mary shook head. "It's so…."

"Unladylike?" Ginger, drily. "Ungodly?"

"Dangerous…I was going to say." Mary, frowning. "I'm concerned for you."

"If there's any trouble, they can use an extra hand…And I can handle myself damned well, hon." Ginger insisted. "And Mrs. C seems reasonably fit, especially lifting Crumpt around the way she did yesterday. Don't worry about us."

"I'll take care of them, Miss Wholesomeby…" Gilligan, proudly.

Hmmn…Mary eyed him.

He is capable, the storm and yesterday proved that. But a bit too spindly and thin for a real man, though he does seem very sweet.

Still it is brave of him to offer.

As for the godless liberal professor who puts Science and its lies before Divine Truth, well, he seems quite capable himself. But a bit weak in the lungs…Probably a consumer of drugs he manufactures in his illegal godless drug lab.

But a nice man all the same, sorry to see him so clearly ill…

"Yes, please do Gilligan." She told the boy. "And take care of yourself, Jesus watch you."

"Thanks." He nodded.

God, watch it there Gill…She's starting to like Willie Gilligan and the last thing I need is someone like her snooping about me all the time…

"Ok, folks. Take care, all of you." The Skipper called. "And take it slow with any natives, Gilligan. Don't antagonize them."

And only kill em if they're a real threat and you're alone.

"Godspeed…" Mary called as the party set off…Gilligan with large pack of equipment on back, Ginger taking the other pack before the Professor could grab it.

"I'm a big girl, Professor. I can handle it." She told him, strapping it on her back. "Lead on…"

"Don't worry about your husband, Mrs. Crumpt." The Skipper called to her, kindly.

After all, it wouldn't do any good.


	17. Chapter 17

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XVII…

The Skipper, looking over some items in box from the Minnow, seated by the ground bonfire pit, greeted Karen as she came down the rope section of the ladder from the boat deck. Her rather ragged old shirt now replaced by a spare of Gilligan's red.

"Good morning, Miss. Hey, there's a couple of eggs, some bread, and a hamburger for you for breakfast if you're hungry." He indicated the grub near the still low-burning fire. "Just toss a little wood on the fire, pan's right there. There's water in the canteen there or coconut milk in that jug."

"Starved, thanks…" Karen came over, taking up pan. "Steve and the others leave for the village?"

"Sure did. They wanted to get an early start. We'd've woken you but Steve thought you needed to sleep some."

"I did…Thanks. And thanks for letting me use that air mattress last night on deck. It was heavenly after all those months on the ground or straw." She cracked the eggs into the pan and added the burger patty, setting on a large flat stone by the fire, then hurled some wood in, watching the flames rise and setting the pan on the grill the Skipper had lain on some stones. "That smells divine." She sighed, sniffing. "Thanks for sharing your stuff, I know three more mouths are a burden."

"No problem. After all, there's food around and we at least have some stuff to catch it with. The refrigerated food wouldn't last that long in any case. Just lucky we'd loaded up supplies before the charter." Genial smile. "Sorry we didn't have another bed available but your friend's pretty much taking up what we got."

"Nah…Todd needs it more. And the mattress really was great." She sat, shifting the food in pan on the grill with a spatula from the box in which the pan and grub had sat.

"How's the boy doing? He seemed to be sleeping all right this morning."

"Yeah, I guess he's as well as we could expect." She paused.

The Skipper nodding…Kindly tone… "So, he was injured by a friend? One of the folks who took the remaining boat and fled without you?"

"Yeah…" Karen agreed, quickly. "The bastards just left us. But they probably didn't get far in that thing."

Well, true enough for the five assholes who lit out in said last working motorboat…Sorry, the rest of you… It's for your own safety.

"People get desperate in situations like these." Grumbie sighed, eyeing her nervous look.

Yep. Just as Gill and I figured after hearing their stories last night. These two are lying about something. Several somethings, likely.

"I guess…" Karen nodded. "But it's hard to forgive 'em, after all we'd been through together…"

"Люди такие, какие они есть." Grumbie, in Russian, with warm smile.

"What?" She eyed him.

"Sorry. An old proverb in Russian…'People are what they are'." He noted.

Ok, she's good or really doesn't know Russian, he smiled at her. "Careful with those eggs, that fire's hot."

"Yeah." She hurried to lift pan. "Just about right." She looked about.

"I saw that big bellowing guy on the deck…Crumpt…Did everyone else go?"

"Ms. Wholesomeby's still below, checking on clothes."

She nodded.

"So, you've never seen any other sign of the natives who built that village?" he asked, setting down the box he'd been rummaging through.

"If they did…" she shrugged. "It doesn't look like anyone's ever really lived there."

"You said before you thought it looked fake. Like a tourist's version…A Potemkin village, sorta?"

"Yeah…" she eyed him, a bit narrowly.

Again, with the Russian stuff…

Balinkoff did say this place was once a CIA base…Could it be? This old guy? A Russkie, checking us out? It could be they're interested and God knows, stranger things have happened to us.

"But who would build something like that? Could this place have been a tourist resort or something?" the Skipper, puzzled look. "It's a little far off the charts for that."

"Maybe it's another billionaire's playpen." She shrugged. "But we saw no signs of anyone using it or living here. Could be the resort closed or the billionaire croaked or got bored. And you…You guys just found the place by luck?"

"Not exactly…" Grumbie shrugged. "I think I mentioned last night I knew there was an island here, passed by it during my Navy days. But thank God I remembered it."

"Sure. We were lucky too, I guess. We've drowned if we hadn't found it after we escaped the last place."

"That sounded like a nightmare…" the Skipper, sympathetically. "What kind of crazy bastard hunts people for sport? And he even blew up his house to spite you?"

"He had it booby-trapped, on a timer, just in case he ever had to flee Interpol or something. We were lucky to find out before it went off, but after that we couldn't stay, the place was a wreck."

"A shame…" he nodded. "You might have been able to repair his equipment and get home. Well, lets hope things work out for us all now."

"I hope so. We've sure earnt an end to all this…" she sighed, forking her food onto a paper plate and starting to eat.

"God, this is good…I haven't had an egg in over a year…"

"No other chickens and so, eggs, but that one you all saw running around?" he asked, curious tone.

"None that we found. Probably just a few left from the natives, running around in the jungle."

"Lets hope so…" smile. "So, it's been…Coconuts, monkeys, lizards, some wild herbs…Fish?"

"Pretty much, when we could catch them." She shrugged. "We did catch a wild pig last year…God that was good. I was so hungry I could've eaten it raw." Rueful smile.

"But we've had worse…" she sighed. "Lots worse…" she eyed him.

"That's rough." Nod. "I've been shipwrecked three times…Once we had to deal with a little cannibalism, I'm afraid. I know how it can be…"

"Yeah…" sigh.

"Any chance you think your friends, if they made it to the shipping lanes or an island, might send help?" he eyed her.

"Those bastards…?" frown. "Not a chance…"

"People change when they're safe. They were friends, right?"

"Some were. Some were just jerks we had to hang with. Some I never got to know." Shrug.

"Really? In three years together?"

"We kept to our tribes. And some got left behind or chose to stay on the other islands."

"Hello!" Mary's cheery voice from the ladder… "Skipper?! I sorted through all the clothes and found some things suitable for a Christian woman to wear…Plus some for any heathen." She lifted two plastic bags.

"That's wonderful, thanks Miss Wholesomeby. Bring them down and we'll sort them out."

"All right. Good morning, Mrs. Cushman! Sorry not to greet you sooner! Did you sleep well?!"

"Just fine…" Karen nodded, looking up with as much a smile as she could muster.

This one I won't be able to tolerate very much longer…

But if Balinkoff gets his project done in the next few and keeps his word…We all get a free ride home. So long as you and yours seem on the up-and-up, 'skipper', she glanced his way as he moved to help Miss Wholesomeby down the ladder.

I'd want an experienced navy man and his mate along to be sure we make it this time, after all. And there should be room for your passengers.

If you are what you seem…

…And then, after I see my honey and the kids and love them to near death…I'll come back here like Number Six, save anyone I can, and burn this place to the ground, Balinkoff and his 'dream' with it.

…

"I see why you weren't too keen on hiking up to the falls for a shower…" Ginger noted to Steve as their group slogged along up the steep mountain path, the falls in the distance still…

"It's not an easy one…" he agreed. "At least not one you'd want to do every morning…Or even every Saturday night…" smile.

"We'd best hold up a mo…" he looked back to see the Professor and Lovely Crumpt behind them, the Professor clearly struggling. "Your friend seems to be have a rough time, though he looks to be in good shape."

"He's ill…Don't know what with…" she noted. "Professor? Mrs. Crumpt?" she called. "You can take it easy, we're gonna do a rest stop for a few."

"Are you sure?" the Professor, wheezing a bit… "I can go a little further."

"I'm sure you can but I'm pooped. Come on up and set a spell." She called, smiling.

"Yes, we should stop." Lovely, a bit anxiously. Glancing at Ginger who nodded.

"Very well…" the Professor agreed, climbing carefully to where Ginger and Steve stood. Clearly exhausted and breathing heavily. "But just a few moments. Where's Gilligan?"

"He's moved on ahead…That boy's a dynamo…" Steve noted.

"He was in the Navy, I guess he got endurance training." Ginger shrugged.

"Well, I hope he doesn't go too far ahead on his own…" the Professor, peering up the trail.

"He promised not to go too far." Ginger nodded. "Just wanted to see that things were safe."

"He's a brave-heart boy…" Lovely smiled. "We are lucky to have him with us."

"Just hope he's not a fool-hardy boy." The Professor sighed. "I think the Skipper would never forgive us for losing him and we need him."

"He was very brave on boat during the storm…" Lovely noted.

"That he was…" the Professor agreed. "I thought for sure we'd lost him several times."

"You must get Hollywood to make film about him and Skipper." Lovely smiled at Ginger. "I will get Fredwyn to back."

"I'll see…And I bet you could." Ginger smiled, no animosity in her look.

"One must know how to handle Fred…He is not so very bad." Lovely shrugged wanly.

"He seems very bad from where I sit, no offense." Ginger, shrewd smile.

"Hey!" Gilligan's cry from up the trail. "Good news! I found some wild lemons and melons on the way!"

"That's very good, Gilligan! Just be careful coming down!" the Professor called back.

"Nice…" Ginger nodded. "We won't get scurvy at least."

"Yes, there's a bunch of fruits and herbs about…" Steve noted. "Not many animals though."

"It seems strange…" Lovely stared about. "The native peoples I mean…Building their village up here in the mountain."

"It might have been for defense…" the Professor looked about. "This island might have been fought over…Or, could be the village was built for joint ceremonies by tribes nearby. Certainly the island doesn't appear to ever have been settled on a permanent basis."

"I agree…And you could be right about the ceremonies…" Steve nodded. "The village does not look like it was lived in much."

"If that's true, maybe they come by often." Ginger noted. "We could be saved soon…Oh, but you haven't seen any of them, right?"

"No…If they did once come much, they don't now." Steve sighed. "Maybe we frightened them off…"

"I find it hard to believe they could be too backward in this era…" the Professor pondered. "But the place could have been abandoned for a number of reasons. We'll see when we get there."

Gilligan emerged from the foliage along the trail, bearing a burlap sack…

"Hey, guys! Got you some lemons and melons!" he set the sack down.

"Well done, Gilligan!" the Professor smiled at him. "Did you see anything up the trail?"

"No signs of any people. There was some sort of animal I saw real quick. Coulda been a wild pig or something."

"A pig?" Ginger blinked.

Ok, I'm supposed to be a vegan according to my fan mags…But heck, I could go for ribs right now.

A little bacon, some ham…A pork roast.

"We've found a few…" Steve agreed. "Hard to catch but tasty."

"Well, that's encouraging as to the food situation. And we've already got a good freshwater source." The Professor noted.

"Now if we could just find a satellite phone one of the natives left behind…" Ginger grinned.

"No way to know till we get there…" the Professor smiled but paling a bit as he sat.

"Yeah…How much farther?" Ginger turned to Steve, trying to conceal her anxiety at the Professor's sudden paling.

"About eight miles yet, I'm afraid…" Steve sighed. "And the trail gets steeper…"

"You ok, Professor?" Gilligan having noted it too.

"Yes, yes…I'll be fine. Just a drop in my blood pressure. Give me a moment and I'll be all right."

"You should have something to eat…" Lovely insisted to the Professor. "Gilligan? Could you cut the Professor some of that nice melon?"

"Sure…" Gilligan pulled out pocket knife and began cutting.

"Only if you all have some…" the Professor insisted.

"I'm ready…" Ginger smiled. Gilligan offering the Professor a piece which he took.

"Yes, cantaloupe, very nice, Gilligan. Thank you." He smiled at Gilligan, taking a bite. "Delicious."

"Glad you like it." Gilligan nodded.

COPD or cancer, I'd say. Though he's not a smoker, probably cancer…Gill(igan) noted to himself, eyeing the Professor.

Poor fellow…Not an easy way to go, especially here, without any meds except the stuff on the boat.

But, if we don't manage to get off here quick, you're fortunate to have me on hand. I'll make it utterly painless when the time comes, should it.

Or if you become a liability…No offense but the National interest must take precedence, friend, smiling at the Professor.

…


	18. Chapter 18

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XVIII…

Ninety minutes later…

"Launch Control, this is Security Control…At this time we are recommending the prescheduled hold be implemented starting in thirty seconds until the situation has been resolved. Are we go on hold?"

"Roger that…All controllers, at this time, we are hold pending Security Control confirmation of the situation resolution." Owen told his microphone as he stood in the midst of Balinkoff Launch Control about 1000 feet down in the isle.

Florence in her space suit, helmet yet off, turning to the now strapped in Dr. Balinkoff… "We're going with the hold as planned, sir. Security Control should alert us shortly. Sorry for the delay, sir."

"No, no…We expected it. All is going quite well and I am sure the situation is well in hand." Kindly nod.

"It's so good to have you going up with us on this one, sir." Florence beamed.

"I must confess to a bit of nerves…" Balinkoff smiled. "But I am sure you'll get us up there safely, my dear. As you did with Cargos 1 and 2."

"Thank you, sir." Pleased smile.

"Igor?" Balinkoff pressed radio transmit button to the main complex. "Is all secure there?"

"Fine, Master." Igor's voice in reply. "No problems. Our new people have made no moves to interfere."

"Excellent. Well, they're in for a bit of a show soon. Take care, Igor and give my best to Amanda and her counterpart when you see them. Call you from orbit at lunch!" beam.

"Hey, Igor!" Florence called.

"Safe journey, Master. Good luck, Ms. Florence."

…

"We'd better stop…" Ginger hissed to Gilligan, indicating the weary and puffing Professor, just ahead on the trail, Lovely Crumpt beside him.

"Right…" Gilligan agreed. "Hey, everybody! Five minutes! Take five minutes!"

"He's not well." Ginger sighed to him. Gilligan nodding…

"No, I don't think so."

Lovely, looking back to them as Steve, following her, halted and looked back.

Ginger glancing over to the Professor who'd stopped, exhausted.

"Professor…" Lovely hurried up to him. "You should sit down." Steve following her, nodding.

"Yeah, mate. You look a bit all in. I know I am." Smile. "Lets us all rest a spell, plenty of time."

"Just…Five minutes." The Professor agreed, breathing heavily as he sat.

"Professor…Hinkle, is it?" Steve asked, carefully.

Hinkle nodding, struggling to catch breath.

"You've been having some trouble there, on the last few hundred feet. And it gets worse up ahead, soon…" delicate pause. "There's no shame in having to take a breather but it'll do no one any good if they end up having to carry you up."

The Professor frowned, starting to rise.. "I can…Manage."

"Mate…Be reasonable and think of our ladies here…" Steve eyed him, keeping voice low as possible. "They can barely make it as it is. If they have to help the boy and I help you up…"

Hinkle eyeing Steve…

"I think I need to stop here…" Ginger noted, as she came up to the two seated men…Lovely eyeing her, a bit grimly.

"I'm not suited for this sort of thing. Professor? If you could stay with me…?"

"Hey, that's a good idea." Gilligan noted cheerily. "If you two stay you can set up a camp for us here when we come back down."

"I should…See the village…See what's…There…" the Professor noted.

"Sure, maybe later…Tomorrow." Gilligan, quickly. "But we'll just scout it out today. It'll be getting late by the time we get there and we shouldn't stay too long or overnight till we know it's safe."

"That sounds wise, son." Steve nodded. "Professor, I think the boy has the right idea."

"I see what you all are up to…" the Professor frowned. "But you're right. I'll just slow you down and endanger you. But Ginger doesn't have to stay with me, I'll be fine alone."

"No, I don't think so." Gilligan shook head firmly. A surprisingly hard…For these people who knew him so little…Stare in his eyes. "We don't want to risk you alone. Sides, we should have a camp set up here for when we get back. I think Miss Grant should stay with you."

Lovely, slight frown.

Still, perhaps…Girl seems more capable as to moving things and all…All those Hollywood stunts and all.

And while I am tougher than look, I have been living soft life a while…

Soft if hellish life…

"It's settled then." Ginger, quickly. "You guys go have a gander, the Professor and I will get things squared away here."

Fine…Lovely, reluctant sigh.

Not as if he could do very much just now at least…

And I am…Married. Sigh.

Made boat, lie. She rose, reluctantly.

"Ok…We go, right guys? Ginger? You take good care of Professor Hinkle." She eyed the girl who nodded. "We'll…Be…Back." A bit solemnly.

"The best…" Ginger agreed.

"All right, then, we'd best head out, guys!" Gilligan called.

"Yeah, to it. Take care, chaps. We'll be back soon." Steve smiled at the two.

Nice couple. Hope nothing eats them or Balinkoff doesn't go seeking two more staffers…

…

Crumpt apparently out for a while, the Skipper had offered to teach the two women a bit of surf casting. Fishing rods at least being in good supply aboard his charter.

"I've done a bit but mainly just with a pole and rope…We didn't have anything so…" Karen noted as she pulled back on the line now out to sea… "OH! I caught one! I got a fish! I got a fish!"

"How wonderful…We are Blessed." Mary beamed from her spot.

"Careful there…" the Skipper had hurried over. "She looks a good size…Give her some line, let her run…Ease up a bit…"

"I got her! The damned fing muddafucker!" Karen cried.

Mary cringing…

"Mrs. Cushman…"

"Sorry…But the damned muddafucker isn't gettin' away from me…!" Karen, vigorously reeling at the Skipper's call, then releasing a bit…

"You've hooked a nice one, Miss!" the Skipper beamed, peering out… "Here, I've got the harpoon from the boat…" He peered again and hurled the harpoon. "Got him! Or Her!"

Karen and Mary staring…

Karen too startled by the accuracy and length of the older man's throw to insist she had indeed "gotten" the fish.

"A nice swordfish, excellent job, ma'am." The Skipper had pulled in the line with rather equally startling speed.

Damn…That old fellow's no slacker…And in a lot better shape than he looks…Karen noted, eyeing Grumbie a bit closely.

Not too hard on the eyes if a bit puffy…

"That was amazing, Skipper!" Mary shook head, forgetting to add a praise of Jesus in her astonishment. "You pulled that huge fish in like it was nothing…Jesus be thanked."

"Oh, yes…Well, it was Mrs. Cushman who landed this beauty." The Skipper smiled to Karen who beamed.

Kinda nice with all that weather-beatin' stuff going for him…

"Well, I might have helped pull her in but I think I'll need you ladies to get her up on the beach to gut and cut her up. A real beauty, this'll make a couple of fine suppers, ladies."

"Oh, I hope to the Lord He'll bless me with one nearly so good!" Mary, moving to help drag the large swordfish up onto the beach with Karen and the Skipper.

One that'll drag you off closer to Him, lets hope, Karen thought.

Still the simp means well…

Should Balinkoff come looking for help, she'd be perfect…Hell, almost no change in her personality required. Always nice to have a trading chip handy…

…

009 deftly making his way along the bare track of trail to the volcano's summit…An increasingly nervous Nauri following, increasingly reluctant.

"We should go…To England. Now." She insisted as they paused, 009 looking at the summit through binoculars a moment.

Hmmn…Steam rising now but…

Well, know more when we get there…

"Come dear, you won't have to come all the way…Just show me the trail up to the climb to the top…To the Fire God…And then you can wait below for me. All right?" he smiled at her face.

The innocent face of a child…Yes, she'll make a fine maid or whatever in Wellington.

"You brave but…Not wise…" she insisted. "Look…Fire God is getting angrier." She pointed to what were now rather billowing clouds of steam…

"Yes, she does seem so. But perhaps I can charm her…" beaming smile.

Uh-huh…Maybe, cutie-pie…

But I would doubt it…The girl eyed him.

"Come, we should hurry…" he urged.

"Ok…I take you. But…" she sighed, looking up. "Is very dangerous…Her name mean Danger…We wait, better."

"My dear girl…Danger…Is my business…And my Duty." He replied. "And I must meet Her…Danger, the Fire God…Today. Then we can shove off for ole England…" fond smile. "That sound good? Lets hurry now! This way, yes?" he indicated the miserable faint track ahead.

"Ok…Yes." sigh.

Hey, Nauri try…She shrugged, rolling eyes, pushing on after him.

…


	19. Chapter 19

+"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XIX…

"I know it's none of my business, Professor…" Ginger, seated on smooth boulder eyes the Professor as he stands, his breathing rather more normal now…He examining what appeared to be a green banana.

"It's lung cancer…" he noted quickly. "And this seems an edible species, which is good. We can use the potassium." Quick glance her way… "Oddly enough I was never a smoker. Just bad luck and pollution, I suppose."

"I'm sorry…" she nodded. "I suppose you'd rather not hear that but…"

"No, I appreciate it…" wan smile. "Contrary to any perception of me as a rugged individualist, I rather crave emotional support."

"And don't get much, at home?" she asked, carefully.

"My ex-wife was not much inclined to it, no."

"I see…What stage are you?"

He eyed her…

"I'm not a complete airhead, Professor…And my aunt had lung cancer."

"Stage IV…" shrug.

"And your wife…Walked?"

"Oddly enough, I did. I couldn't accept making compromises anymore." He sighed. "I love my son, but Skylar and I ran out of steam long ago…Just went through the motions for him, he's seriously disabled. Her insisting we put him in a home was the last straw, though I realize, for her, the situation was impossible with me ill too, now."

"By any chance…Do you have a good life insurance policy?" she eyed him.

"Fair. But I was leaving it to chance, Miss Grant, not conceiving an elaborate suicide plot." Wry smile. "I really did want to see some of the isolated islands of the Hawaiian chain."

"But you wouldn't have minded if you never came back…" she eyed him.

"No. Though I did consider the possibility of simply finding a new place to live till the end came."

"Looks like you've found it." She glanced about.

"I suppose I might do worse. But whatever I decide to do as to my limited future, I promise to do everything possible to see the rest of you safely home."

"Thanks…That does mean a lot." She nodded, earnest look. "Though I get that's meant for everyone."

…

"Nice clean job…" Karen noted to the Skipper as she and Mary Wholesomeby watched him open the swordfish and remove its guts in a very deft maneuver.

"Done a few yourself, I take it." He smiled at her.

"Even before getting wrecked and lost here and there…" she nodded. "But I've had to learn to make do with a piece of metal from a plane or a tin can."

"Done that myself…" he grinned.

"It's rather like opening a hog or chicken…" Mary noted. "We had a lot to open on the factory farm my aunt runs back home."

"I would imagine you send them all off with a prayer." Karen, mock-solemnly.

"Oh, yes." Eagerly. "Though when the belt's in high-throughput we have to just say one to cover the morning's or afternoon's mass slaughter." Beam. "Speaking of which, may I, Skipper?" she eyed the gutted fish. "She is helping us survive."

"Certainly." He stood up. "Just let me wipe my hands and we'll do it right." He took a rag Karen handed him, kindly nod to Mary.

"Of course if you would care to do the honors?" Mary turned to him. "Or you, Miss Cushman…Being the one who caught her?"

"Oh, no, honey…" Karen shook head. "You or the Skipper go right ahead."

"It's fine, dear." Grumbie smiled.

"Well, then… Lord. Jesus. Take the soul of this dumb beast to your bosom and let it know Your glory and accept You. Or, if like the accursed heathen and those who vote Democrat or any nonRepublican party, it refuses to acknowledge Your glory, let it be cleansed in the fires of Hell Immortal."

"Lovely." Karen smiled, eyeing the Skipper who shrugged.

At least in my former Catholicism we let em burn in Purgatory for a mortal time, she thought.

"Oh, I think I got one!" Mary, eyeing her jangling line from the rod she'd fixed in the sand of the beach.

"Yeah…Lets kill another for Christ…Or whomever…" Karen noted under her breath.

…

009 and Nauri had now reached the final bit of trail ascending steeply to the summit of the steadily steam-billowing volcano. He looking carefully about to see any signs of vents or worse, flowing lava.

Nothing…All apparently confined to the crater above itself…

"Strange…" he noted. As, far below, gazing up at the still far-off submit, did Professor Hinkle as he scanned with his binoculars, seated. Ginger now standing, watching him.

"Can I have a look?" she asked.

"Certainly…It's quite a site though very odd." Handing the binoculars to her…She taking them up and focusing.

"Wow…" she pulled down the binoculars, a bit nervous. "Is it going to explode? And the island sink or blow up?"

"No, not at this level…But it's odd…The steam doesn't seem quite natural. I wish I had my spectrometer to analyze it."

"Not natural…?" she looked again. "You mean it looks…Manufactured?"

"Yes. Though what could be producing it…"

"009 to Base…Come in, Base…" 009 was trying his satellite phone.

Hmmn…Not getting through at all…

Nauri watching, anxious look…

"You done? We should go now…" she urged.

"No, not quite…I need to get up closer and see what's up in there…" 009 noted. "You may stay here, Nauri. No need to come."

"I no want to be alone. I come. You need me." She insisted, following after him as he headed up.

Both nearing the summit in a few moments…

Hmmn…No great temperature changes that I or instruments can detect…009 noted, repeating for his recorder built into the phone.

Have to send this off later when the interference clears…

He stood looking up…Nauri eyeing him…

"It seems rather safe, actually…I'm going to the lip and have a look…" he climbed up to the crater's lip, peering…

My dear God…He stared down at the clouds of steam emanating from the three space shuttle-style rockets below.

"Base…Base…" he tried again… "009 for Q, it's unbelievable…"

"Ugh…" he groaned as the bullet struck him…He fell, barely seeing Nauri's solemnly quiet face as he tumbled into the crater. She putting pistol back into her holster concealed under the sarong and picking up 009's dropped satellite phone which she put under the sarong in a pocket of her uniform's shorts.

"Security Control to Launch Control…" she told a small radiophone in hand now. "Launch Control, this is Jess. The security breech has been secured. You may proceed with countdown." She peered down to see 009's dead body on the rocks below.

"Launch Control to Security Control…Acknowledged. The breech has been secured. Good job, Jess. Countdown proceeding at T-minus one hour, thirty minutes. All green and go. Hurry home, hon!" Owen's cheery voice.

"I tried, cutie-pie." She shrugged to 009, turning to descend.


	20. Chapter 20

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XX…

The Balinkoff complex…Gallery off the launch control complex…

"Isn't this exciting?" Louise enthused to Amanda, sipping coffee while cradling her counterpart, Henanda in arm.

You wouldn't have thought so six months ago when your big concern was finding a supply of nail polish…

"Sure…If you want to see that madman rule the world or at least try…" Amanda sighed.

"Mandy…Please don't say such things." Louise shook head, taking hand. "I understand we have political differences and I won't try to press my views on you, but it hurts me to see you so set against a good man like Boris Balinkoff."

"Uh-huh…The man who put my brain into her…" Amanda, indicating Henanda.

Hey…Two-way street, honey. Henanda thought, a bit miffed. Though I will admit I got the best of the deal.

Though tragedy may loom for me, if I lose my enhanced faculties…Sad "bak-bak…"

And you people don't seem to think I might now require better toilet facilities? Annoyed look about…

Though I appreciate the pad you put down for me, sister…Eyeing Amanda gratefully.

"That was to save your life after we got caught trying to escape…" Louise noted. "And it wasn't his fault you got hurt, jumping from that height. If Igor hadn't been able to save you…"

"I'm grateful to Igor and I get it might have been necessary for a few days. Though an induced coma could have done just as well." Amanda frowned.

"And then you ran…We all searched for you, for months. We were all worried, you know."

Amanda, sighing at the earnest face beside her. "I know, Louise. Thanks. I am glad to be back. And I will hope no one gets hurt today, will that do?"

"That's fine…I'm sure it'll all come off well."

"Countdown proceeding at T-minus fifty-five minutes and counting…" Owen's voice over the gallery's loudspeaker, view of the three ships on two huge video screens.

"So if he gets up there…?" Amanda eyed Louise.

"Safe Haven will be fully manned and ready." She beamed. "And the Operation can commence."

"What about the base here? The world's governments will know a launch occurred soon enough and even if he conceals it one last time, when he starts 'Operation whatever', they'll track us down here."

"By then we'll all be up on Balinkoffs Four, Five, and Six…If you'll come."

"He promised he'd release me, after erasing some of my memories of this place…" Amanda frowned.

"He will…Or we will, under his instruction…Jess is good at that, you won't lose anything important." Louise beamed. "I was just hoping…You know the offer to join us stays open…"

"To help blackmail the world into one government, under Boris? No, thanks. Sorry, I hafta get political here."

"We nearly fell under the thumb of Putinsky/Trump or even that awful Crumpt guy." Louise noted. "Even if you can't appreciate Boris' goodness, how could it be worse? You know his plans…Disarmament, end world poverty, end global warming…Equal rights for women and the oppressed…High speed rail all over America, Africa, Latin America…No borders…More funding for pure research…"

"Via a mix of mind control and blackmail…We get the Star Trek universe…It won't work, Louise. But…" she eyed the stricken face. "I said I wouldn't argue politics today, so…Lets just watch things. I just wanted to be sure you and the others would be safe now he's left you here. The governments will attack this place, you know. Soon as they trace the launches and he makes his threats."

"I know…But we'll be safe…And the Doc has some tricks up his sleeve for the UN and US, should they come."

"At your expense?" Amanda shook head. "Or whomever he has stay behind?"

"We'll do our Duty as we must." Louise shrugged. "But it'll be fine. Anyway you won't remember and you'll be safe on a boat headed home so…"

"I won't forget you, will I?" Amanda, nervous.

"No…Just things that happened after you got here. It'll be fine." Louise smiled, patting hand.

"You refused it when he offered you the choice."

"Well, I thought I could resist the Conversion via the Balinkoff treatment. I was a bit arrogant about my strength of will, I guess."

"Yeah, I guess…" Amanda sighed.

"But I am much happier now…And come on, you know how I was before…I gave up the moment they came after us, I was always whining…I know how I was, Mandy. You were a good friend to put up with me. I even would have sold you out, you know, to save my life."

"You didn't…And you really didn't have to tell me that." Amanda shook head.

"I was weak… I loved you but I was weak." Shrug. "I always admired you so, Mandy. You would never have sold me out…"

"I don't blame you for being scared shitless, lets not go on about it."

"You're like Danny…So brave…" Louise nodded. "I hope he's ok."

"So do I."

Louise, careful look… "I worry about him, out there. Especially if he's trapped there when the UN attacks, if they do…"

"I don't know where Danny is, Louise." Amanda frowned. "What that all this was about? To get me to tell you where he is?"

"No…Honest…But it is important we know. We want him safe and so does the Doc."

"And the 'Doc' is scared of him. He resisted his session of the Balinkoff process."

"Some of us did, but only once…" Louise noted firmly. "But we honestly don't want to see him hurt, Amanda. If you say you don't know where he is, I believe you."

"Good. I don't."

"Ok."

"What about Karen and Steve and Todd?" Amanda asked. "Igor and Balinkoff told me they're still out on the isle. He came to a deal with them?"

"They were hard to hunt…And we didn't want to have to hurt them. Besides having a few people out there telling anyone who showed up, like those new castaways, that there was nothing going on was a good deal for us in exchange for leaving them be and giving them food."

"They do get to leave as well, right? That's part of the deal when you guys all leave?"

"Sure…Though if they want access to your escape boat they gotta agree to come in for treatment. We don't want any useful info to get out…Loose lips, ya know?" Louise smiled.

Crazy as a loon, this one, sis…Henanda eyed Louise from Amanda's arm…

"T-minus forty-five minutes and counting…" Owen's voice. "Alls green and go…Hey, Jess! Uh, sorry…Launch control out."

"Jess' back…Good." Louise nodded.

"She was…Out? Off isle?" Amanda eyed her.

"Oh, no…Just a security sweep thing…All cleared up now. It was the reason for the hold before." Louise smiled.

And of course she had to arrange for the body to be put in his boat and sent off to sea, transmitter sending automatic signal after a fake message that he'd found nothing but natives were arriving, with guns, and angry that their ceremonial spot had been…Arrgh…

A shame, really. Jess told me the other day the Brit was a real cutie. A bit of a Todd jerk, from his early days but…Young Sean Connery cute with more and curly hair.

Shame…

….

"Very odd…" the Professor noted, peering through binoculars. "I'd have to see to confirm but that's not natural steam. I'd even say it was more like…Some mix of vaporized oxygen and hydrogen, from a frozen stock, plus perhaps some industrial waste steam."

"You mean, like a rocket? The frozen fuel stuff they keep cold?" Ginger asked.

"Exactly, yes. Very good." He smiled at her.

"I watched all the old rocket launches and the newer ones on and You tube. I was a bit of a space nut when I was a kid." Ginger noted, beaming.

"Really?"

"I once thought of being an astronaut, but I flunked calculus and my father needed money and modeling then acting beckoned. I sold out, sorry." Sheepish nod. "Though I did find I really like acting, when I get to do some."

"Then you didn't 'sell out'. You found your calling. I'm one who sold out." He sighed. "I abandoned pure research for a stable university teaching career. I once founded a company and sold out my shares to pay for my downpayment."

"Let me guess. Mrs. Hinkle?"

"I made the decision myself. Though Skylar pushed me on it. Though I actually do like teaching, when I get to do it properly."

"Guess we both compromised." She grinned. "But what about this steam stuff? You think there's a rocket up there?"

"Could be…Perhaps a testing site…"

"Professor? You mean…We're saved?!" she eyed him.

"It's odd there's no security about…Cameras, fences…This has a disturbing air of secrecy about it." He pondered.

"You mean as in, they may not want to have people about…Even accidental guests?" Worried look.

"Perhaps not. But I would imagine they know we're here. If they haven't acted, it may be a good sign."

"But they haven't come to help us either, bad sign." She sighed. "And 'they' could be anyone…"

"Out here, yes. Anyone." He agreed.

"Yikes." Sigh. OH! She looked at him, rising. "We'd better warn the others! If they get too close…"

"The village is likely a sham, as Steven noted. And a good sign that they've never bothered Steven and Karen and that poor brother of mine. Possibly if they go no further…" the Professor noted. "But we'd better…If only we had a radio…Ginger?" he eyed her. "I don't think I'd be much use to you, I'm sorry to admit. I can try but I probably will just slow you down…"

"I'll go. You stay here and hold the fort. I'll be back asap with the guys." She nodded. Eyeing his distressed face carefully. "Don't worry, I'll be careful. I'm no heroine, like I sometimes play on TV." Grin.

"You certainly are…And be careful. Sorry I can't be of more use." He sighed.

"Just keep letting us know what's up. We'd be lost without you, Roy." She smiled at him, then turned…

"Ginger?! Be a bit cautious about Steven." The Professor called, she turning back.

"It is strange whoever is running that operation never interfered with three castaways running about…" he pointed out.

"I was just thinking that myself…" she nodded. "I'll be careful around him till we know for sure… You stay here and take care of yourself." She came back to him, eyeing him, then kissed him.

"See ya!" she hurried off, waving as he, stunned, pondered what had just happened…


	21. Chapter 21

"The Isle…"

PG 13

Summary: What "Riverdale" did to "Archie and Jughead" and "Betty and Veronica", I'm doin' to "Gilligan's Isle" ...

Disclaimer: All characters of Gilligan's Isle remain property of that series...Any resemblance of fictional characters to those living or dead is purely coincidental…

Part XXI…

"So…" Gilligan, rather cheerily despite the long trudge along the rather overgrown and steep jungle trail, to Steve just behind him… "How many of you were there when you got here?"

"About twenty…" Steve noted, without thinking.

Ummn…

"Whoa." Gilligan eyed him, pausing. "All those people died?" innocently stunned look.

Thought the guy and girl were holding things back…

Lovely Crumpt, just behind Steve, likewise startled, perhaps more sincerely…

"Well…A few." Hastily… "Some of us tried to escape on what was left of the boats…Patched them up. They preferred to take their chances on the sea."

Yes, sounds plausible…He thought.

Better than, well a mad scientist captured us all and let a few of us go free as lighting rods for anyone else appearing while brainwashing the rest…

With the freed ones, but for Danny, agreeing to cover up in exchange for some food, an offer to be left a working boat when Balinkoff completes his crazy scheme, and the understood implied threat to us and our said brainwashed comrades.

I mean it's not like we know you folks well enough yet to trust you with our and our friends' lives.

"But, of course, who knows if any made it. It wasn't likely." Steve, putting on somber face.

"That's awful." Gilligan commiserated. "How many died here?"

"Ohhh…Five…"

Yeah, five sounds reasonable…

"That is terrible, Steven." Lovely put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, hard to endure. I buried them myself." Steve noted.

"Oh…Well, if we get rescued I hope you can find them." Gilligan, blandly. "We could take their things back, may even their remains. Are they buried near your camp?"

"Not far, in the jungle, near our camp. Of course, we've been through so much, I'm not sure if I could still locate them…" Steve, carefully.

"We'll help. The Skipper's great at that sort of thing…Tracking and all." Gilligan smiled boyishly. "And he believes in seeing the dead properly respected, that sort of thing."

"Wonderful…" Steve nodded.

"I'm sure we'll find those friends of yours and help their families." Lovely smiled wanly, patting Steve's arm.

Nice lady, really…Glad she wasn't included on the hit list with Crumpt, (Gill)igan thought.

…

"Launch control…T-minus twenty minutes and counting…Weather is excellent…All systems green and go." Owen's voice over the ship's speaker, Balinkoff eyeing various panels from his seat.

"Security control…" Jess' voice over speaker. "No security breaches, perimeter is secure. Go for launch."

"It's looking good, sir." Florence noted from her pilot's seat.

"Yes, indeed, my dear." Balinkoff nodded, beaming. "We shall be dining in orbit…And by tomorrow, the world will hear from Balinkoff again."

"Yes, sir." She beamed happily. "Just let me say how much I appreciate your putting your trust in me for this one, sir."

"Of course, Florence…I literally trust you with my life." He smiled.

"It's just…I know there was a time…" she paused. "When I didn't understand what you were trying to achieve, like poor Amanda, Steve, and Karen…Not to mention, Danny and Todd." Sigh.

"We know each other better now, dear. And you've come to understand my dream." He nodded.

"I'm totally devoted to it…And you, sir." She gave a rather rapturous look. "And I'll see we have a perfect flight."

"Absolutely…"

"Sir?" she was hesitant. "If I may ask…?"

"Dear?"

"How long do you think it will take till the world surrenders to you?"

"To us, my dear. Oh…A few days. They'll need a few demonstrations of what we can do." He noted, casually, with wave of hand.

"Of course…"

So nice of the Boss to include us in world conquest…

"Nothing too destructive I hope, but they will need convincing…" he nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, sir. It's too bad everyone can't see the dream." She sighed.

"In time, Florence, in time. For now, fear must keep the world in line on the course to our brighter tomorrow."

"I know, sir. It's just a shame. Oh…Sir?" pause. "What about the others? The ones we're leaving behind? I know most will come on Balinkoff 4, 5, and 6 if they can but…"

"They will defend our base to the last necessary moments…But don't fear, Florence. All will be well. I've prepared for any attack."

"Yes, sir. And Karen and Todd and Steven will have time?"

"I've promised and it shall be so…"

"Yes, sir." Nod. Slight hesitation… "And…Danny?"

"The boy will have his chance to leave with the others if he takes it." Shrug.

"He's resistant to the process…" she noted, carefully.

"By then it won't matter, he'll be free to go. Don't worry, dear. I've no desire to punish him." Balinkoff sighed. "I only wish he'd joined me."

She nodded, a bit sadly.

"And I intend to keep my promise to you. I'll see his sister can do him no harm. She'll be arrested on my order as soon as possible once the new world government is established. I'd much prefer a good man, even if my opponent, in charge of such a vast fortune than one so evil. But we can hope the process will change her nature or reveal a better side to her, once she's secured and Daniel back in his rightful place." He smiled at Florence who nodded.

"Launch control requesting manual fuel pressure check…Captain?" her copilot, a small, lovely woman in her thirties, a former executive from Bombay, India, Pavani Laghari, turned to her.

"Right…Excuse me, boss." Florence, wry smile, pressing her suit mike. "Balinkoff One here, go ahead control…"

…

"Well…This should be lovely for dinner, ladies." The Skipper nodded at the fish fillets and cross-sections before them on metal panel from the boat placed on a large flat rock. "The rest we can either put with the refrigerator and ice or dry-store. Miss Karen? Did you and your friends ever find ice here? Up in the mountain area, by the volcano, maybe?"

"Afraid not, Skipper." Karen shook head. "There's some cold-water streams but that's all we've found."

"Well, we'll dry then…" he nodded. "I don't want to waste our fuel on the generator trying to keep the fridge going more than necessary."

"Oh! I've got another, Skipper!" Mary Wholesomeby cried from the beach where she'd returned to try her luck a bit more.

"That's great, Miss Wholesomeby!" he called. "Just give her a little play and reel her in carefully!"

"She's getting the hang of it…" Karen nodded, looking over. "Just let it have a little leeway to hook itself, honey!" she called. "That's it, now reel her in."

"I think I've got it!" Mary cried.

"Odd a girl like that would come out to Hawaii and take your cruise alone." She nodded to the Skipper.

"Well…I think she was with a group till she decided to come and take my charter." He noted.

"Really? I can imagine…" Karen grinned. "Some missionary group or Christian Spinsters Over 30?" pause… "I really can…I was in a missionary group and the Christian Spinsters over 30 on more vacations than I care to admit." Wry shrug.

"She seems a nice kid…" he noted, shrugging himself. "A little much but…"

"Got him or her!" Mary called happily, holding up a large fish.

"Looks like an albacore, nice…" Karen peered. "Good job, Mary…That's a big tuna."

"Bring her over and we'll get her set to rights." Grumbie beamed. "Nice job, indeed."

"Praise be!" Mary cried, hurrying over. But eyed the fish as she reached them. "This is a tuna?"

"They look different out of the can, honey." Karen smiled.

"Oh, yes…I suppose so." Mary agreed, laying the large fish down with effort. "May I do the honors?"

"All yours, dear." The Skipper handed her his knife.

"In Jesus' holy name, I gut thee." She drove the knife in.

Amateur, but not bad…The Skipper thought.

Still…Even if she's not practiced with knife…Doesn't mean she's not a possible agent. That ultra-Christian stuff can be a good blind, Putinsky and others have a lot riding on Crumpt, and it's even possible the Company might have sent back up without informing us.

Though it's Ms. Cushman here who makes me wonder the most…

Just a bit too pat for me, she and Stevie boy surviving here alone for months, especially with coma boy.

Still no need to jump the gun and eliminate her or Wholesomeby just yet. They might really just be nice, if rather odd, girls.

…

"There it is…" Steve noted as the trio of he, Lovely Crumpt, and Gilligan made their weary way up the steep trail to the native village which now spread before them on a level plateau.

"Welcome to…The Village…" he grinned, arch tone. "From 'The Prisoner', you know, the old 60s series?"

"I have never heard of such." Lovely shook head.

Actually I have but having lived it, back in Slovobia when it was Communist…She thought.

"I have." Gilligan nodded, beaming… "That was really good, just like a Number Two."

"Thanks." Steve smiled.

And no need to mention I had one of my crazy dictatorial fits here, shortly after we arrived, trying to assign everyone then with us their numbers and indeed declared myself "The New Number Two" till Danny and Karen slapped me silly.

"Nice place…" Gilligan looked around as they made their exhausted way into the central square, six huts about the square on the sides with a large hut at one end across from where they were entering. "Is that some kind of temple?" he pointed to the structure just rising above the large hut in its rear. A pyramid with flat top, about five hundred feet in height.

"Seems to be…" Steve nodded. "We thought maybe that was where they'd done ceremonies or sacrifices…Or something."

Lovely moving to nearest hut… "Careful there, ma'am!" Gilligan called, heading over to her.

"You never know what might be goin' on in a place like this…"

"It's pretty safe…" Steve noted. "The natives are long gone and there's no booby traps or anything."

"Ok…But the Skipper always says…" Gilligan began, suddenly falling through the hut door to floor.

One way to take any possible hidden assailant and his friend among us by surprise, Gill(igan) noted to himself, picking himself off the floor sheepishly.

"Sorry…But it looks ok." He noted. The others following in.

"Not exactly a four-star hotel but…" he smiled.

"No, but not bad." Steve agreed. "Unfortunately, not much in here or elsewhere in the place."

"No?" Gilligan, peering around…Affecting a casual, rather ineffectual survey while taking everything in with laser-sharp precision.

Nothing in plain view…

"I wonder, Steven…" Lovely looked about. "Why did you and the lady and that poor young man not stay here? It must be more secure than the beach or your camp."

"Too far from the coast, too much of a slog from where the food is…" Steven shrugged.

"And we weren't sure at first at least, if the inhabitants might show." He noted. "Show and not be too happy about people taking their place over."

"Yeah, I get that…" Gilligan noted.

"Maybe with more people…" Steve began.

The ground rumbling a bit…

Whoa…All three looked about…

"Is that volcano?" Lovely stared at Steven who nodded.

"Yeah, it gets a little tummy rumbly every now and then."

"It doesn't, like, erupt and explode…Or send that boiling lava down?" Gilligan, worriedly.

"We've not seen that…" Steve shrugged. "Just a hot spring or vent of gas now and then up here."

"Hope we can get the Professor up here soon to take a look." Gilligan noted.

"Explode?" Lovely stared. "Will it do that? Will the island here sink into the sea?"

"No sign of it yet…" Steve, reassuringly.

"But of course we're not volcano experts…"

"Lets have a look around and see if there's anything you guys could have missed." Gilligan suggested.

"Fine idea." Steve nodded.

Beating you to a pulp to find out what you're not telling us might also be taken for such…Gilligan thought, peering round.

"Is that place dug?" Lovely pointed, peering.

"That was the hut fire pit, best we could determine." Steve noted, stepping over. "Nothing but old charred wood and some stones.

"Yeah…" Gilligan nodded, he having joined them. "Oh, look!" innocent stare as he reached into the pile of debris.

"Careful, Mr. Gilligan!" Lovely cried.

"It's fine…It's cool, no fire or coals. Here!" he pulled out a small item.

"What is…" Lovely stared.

"A cigarette lighter." Steven stared.

"Pretty rusted and dirty, it might be old, I don't know if it works…" Gilligan clicked. Flame issuing.

"Well that's nice…" he noted.

"Keen eye, son." Steve nodded.

"Does this mean other people have been here?" Lovely eyed the two.

"Or the native people have lighters…Maybe they get to civilization…" Gilligan nodded thoughtfully.

"We've not seen any about…" Steve eyed the lighter. "Could be they or someone left it long ago."

"Well, at least it means someone was here…And we can use it…" Gilligan put the lighter in his pants pocket.

"Lets see if we can find anything else here, then check the other huts…" he turned as the floor shook…

The whole place trembling…A huge roar from outside the hut…They all ran to the door and went out.

"Careful, everybody!" Gilligan cried, turning to Lovely who stared out at the huge cloud of steam from the volcano as, in quick succession, three huge rockets, each rather like the American Space Shuttle System, rose out of the crater and appeared above, soaring quickly up, flame trailing…

"My God!" Steve cried.

"Wow." Gilligan stared.

A launch site? Here?

It can't be the Company's…They'd never let us come, especially with a traitor like Crumpt.

Unless…They've no intention of letting us return after the mission…

"Oh my God!" Ginger, below on the trail had stopped to find safety as the ground shook and the roar began, with a pillar of steam and vapor rising. The three spacecraft barely visible for a second to her…

"Skipper?!" Karen cried, standing by the Minnow in stunned shock, peering up at the huge cloud of steam above the distant volcano summit. Mary crossing herself feverishly…

Grumbie, eyeing the cloud having barely spotted the three craft issuing out of the crater summit…

Well, well, well…Company special project or the Russians or Chinese or even the Brits or Indians?

Wonder what Gill's take on this will be?

Fascinating…The Professor stared up. But given the pattern and texture of the steam and the lack of real volcano activity before, not entirely…

"Whee!" Florence, aboard Balinkoff One cried, wishing she could lift head and smile at the Doctor, he now flattened against his chair in his suit. Owen's voice crying in her and the others' suit helmet headphones… "Liftoff! We have liftoff on Balinkoffs One, Two, and Three!"

So…He actually pulled it off…A lone figure in the jungle, leaning on bamboo staff, staring up…His once large bulk a bit loose about his frame, his clothes worn and tattered, his beard long and matted. The crazy maniac has actually gone and done it…Three at once, gotta be the crew not another cargo.

His crew and my poor, deluded friends…He sighed.

Well, Daniel…Danny thought. Time to see if there's anything to be done to save the world.

At least before the world comes to destroy this place…


End file.
